


The Tale of the Blue Fire

by the_idler



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcohol, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Communist Revolution, Eventual Romance, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury, Multi, Not Compliant with Avatar Comics, POV Azula (Avatar), POV Sokka (Avatar), Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War Landscape, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Worldbuilding, spiritual journey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:15:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27089995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_idler/pseuds/the_idler
Summary: After the Avatar's mysterious accident, the already tense political situation starts to boil. The world will soon approach the verge of a total destruction. Azula, who had been transferred from the mental institution to a secluded mansion, doesn't know about any of it; she chose to block out the actuality and live in the past. Unexpectedly, she will be forced to leave her stronghold. Outside, she will have to confront the world scarred by the Hundred Year War and its scarred inhabitants. Azula may be the key to restoring the balance again, but will she find her path? And can this what is to be restored truly called the balance?
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Azula & Sokka (Avatar), Azula (Avatar) & Existential Crisis, Azula (Avatar)/Original Male Character, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 25





	1. On the Storms and the Dragons

They were sitting at the small round table on the balcony of her prison-home. The sky was cloudless and the merciless rays of Agni were heating their spot to the insufferable degree. But her unwanted visitor didn't seem to care, as he was rambling incoherently about his usual nonsense over a cup of steaming tea. She turned her head towards the still sea and squinted up in the sky, holding her palm on her forehead. All of a sudden, the view in front of her began to change dramatically – dark clouds that had appeared out of nowhere obscured Agni's face and the violent waves started to crash against the cliff below the balcony. The tea set ominously rattled, moved by a strong gust of wind; a storm was coming. 

She gave him a well-practiced sneer. "Well, it seems that even the Spirits can't stand your babbling, Zuzu." 

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Sometimes even the clearest day can turn into the darkest night, but it's often the darkness that let us see the most clearly," he said, unbothered by her facial expressions and the chaos unfolding around them. 

"That's ridiculous," she snapped. What was he supposed to achieve with this pathetic impersonation of their disgraced uncle? She was going to tell him – or rather shout over the howling wind – to stop embarrassing himself, but suddenly, the lightning ripped through the sky and struck him in the chest. 

"No!" she shouted as he started falling into the darkness. She wanted to catch him, but it turned out that she was kneeling on the floor with her hands tied behind her back. After craning her neck she saw a silver chain wrapped around her wrists; the other end of the chain was tied to the storm drain. Then the realization struck her – she was no longer on her secluded island. She didn't even need to raise her head to know what was in front of her: their Agni Kai's arena. For a moment she was mesmerized by her brother's limp body lying on the ground, but then she noticed two dragons circling above them. 

"You're pathetic," growled the Red Dragon in her father's voice. "You've let the little peasant girl overpower you!" The red bulk hovered above Zuko's body, casting a wide shadow. "What are you waiting for? You have a throne to claim," the dragon said, without moving his lips, and bared his fangs in a mocking smile. 

"Don't listen to him!" cried the Blue Dragon; she recognized Ursa's voice. "You have to come home with me." The Blue Dragon approached her dangerously close. 

"Stop plotting against me!" she shouted and jerked her body in a furious attempt to free herself, but it was futile. 

"I was never against you," the Blue Dragon said gently, carrying a sad expression. "I love you Azula, I do." 

"Enough!" she howled, fighting back the tears. Then, she realized with terror that her wrists weren't constrained by the silver chains, but by leather hospital straps. She gathered all her strength and made one last try to break the ties. This time it was successful; she immediately sprang to her feet and took a fighting stance. Her arms started to move in circular motions, almost like they were acting on their own. Without thinking, she aimed at the Blue Dragon and shot the most powerful lightning that she could generate. The Blue Dragon collapsed to the ground and burst into a bright flame. In the next moment she was looking on the scene from above; the fire was spreading rapidly, reaching now the top tier of the Royal Palace. Soon, the whole Capital City was in flames and the smoke began to fill her lungs. 

She knew that the blaze wouldn't end until it consumed the entire Fire Nation. 

Azula opened her eyes with a gasp. It took her a while to take in that there wasn't any smoke suffocating her. She looked around in the darkness, seeing an empty nightstand and an opened window with fluttering curtains; slowly, her breath began returning to normal. After untangling herself from the sheets, she crawled out from her bed, lit a small flame in her palm and moved towards the bathroom. 

Just as Azula stepped into the twilight of the bathroom, she noticed that something was not right about her face, reflecting in the large mirror hanging above the washbasin. She came closer to the mirror, lifting her palm to illuminate her face better. Azula's hand froze as she clapped her eyes on the mark on her forehead. It was a strange symbol: a flame, resembling the Fire Nation emblem, enclosed in an equilateral triangle. Her fear spiked as she took a closer look and realized that the symbol was burned on her skin. When the mark started to glow in blue light, the flame in her palm went out and she let out a scream. 

Azula once again opened her eyes; her heart was pounding and she was covered in sweat. She shot into an upright position on her bed and quickly looked around. The moonlight, coming through the closed window, was illuminating a scroll and a half-empty cup of tea sitting on the nightstand. She furiously kicked the sheets off and rushed towards the bathroom, not bothering to light her way. As a result, she tripped over the ottoman and almost lost her balance. Finally, muttering a curse, she got to the mirror and lit a blue flame in her trembling palm. Her forehead was perfectly smooth, as usual, so she let out a deep breath – this time she woke up for real. 

Or didn't she? The surroundings still seemed somehow delusory to her. Azula looked into the mirror with fear – was she descending into madness again? The princess almost could feel the suffocating tightness of the straitjacket and the pain of leather straps cutting into her body; she rapidly turned away from the mirror, rushed back to the bedroom and threw her silk gown on. Then she headed to the balcony that was attached to the living room. The cool night breeze brushing against her face partially restored her grip on reality. Azula walked past the small round table, rested her hands on the railing and looked ahead; the sea was still. 

***

The war ended long ago. Retired general was looking at the panorama of the great city of Ba Sing Se, supported on his tea shop's terrace railing. It was a gorgeous spring evening and the setting sun was casting its golden rays on the sea of crimson rooftops. The extraordinarily quiet air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blossoming cherry. The general closed his eyes, raised his chin and took a deep sniff. He was trying to commit the view to memory, together with every surrounding sound and scent. Soon, the memories were going to become all he had left of this place. Sad smile spread across his wrinkled face. Iroh, of all the people, should've known better that nothing is given once and for all – his gaze instinctively wandered to the western outskirts of the city – and shouldn't have let himself get attached to this place so much. 

And yet, he did. He wondered how much of this silly attachment could be blamed on his beloved nephew. After all, walls in Jasmine Dragon were the silent witnesses of Zuko's pivotal points: his spiritual metamorphosis, celebrations of his transition from a banished prince to the mighty Fire Lord, his tough, but fair decision on breaking up a long-term relationship, and finally, the beginnings of a new relationship, the one in which he could be true to himself. Thoughts of his nephew's happiness warmed the old general's heart, but then he reminded himself that he had little time left. He reluctantly turned away from the view and went back inside. 

His last customers, loud, self-assured and unaware of the fate that had awaited them, vanished no more than half an hour ago. They left behind a lot of the decorative tea cups spread over the tables; Iroh started carefully carrying them to the kitchen. There was nobody else in Jasmine Dragon, he forced all of his employees to take a paid leave, strongly advising them to spend it outside Ba Sing Se. They were all rather pleased about it, all except for Hiko. She was fiercely opposing, arguing that Iroh couldn't unload the new shipment of supplies by himself, but he didn't leave her a choice. He knew that the delivery of supplies – as well as the redecoration of the dining hall and garden works on the patio – wasn't going to happen. Well, probably some sort of "garden works" and "redecoration" would happen after all, but the results certainly couldn't please anybody's eyes. 

Iroh put the last cup on the drainer, wiped his hands on a small, green towel and left the kitchen, still filled with a faint scent of jasmine and lychee. After one last look at the dining hall he stepped through a main entrance, pulled out the keys and thoroughly locked the door, even though he knew it wouldn't help much. Then, with his hands in his sleeves, he slowly descended the stairs leading to the patio and passed the square pond with a fountain, leaving its rustling behind. The city was immersed in an unusual silence; the old general knew that it was the silence before the storm. Just like he had known it a few years ago, but then he had failed to convince his nephew to change the course of their ship and in result they had to save themselves by heading to the eye of the storm. This time the Dragon of the West was heading to the opposite direction. 

The retired general wasn't at his destination yet, when he heard the rumble of cannon fire ripping through the air. He stopped and looked towards the Upper Ring; it began. 

***

_One year later._

When Sokka reached the square pond with the idle fountain, he was aware that he was a little bit late. It was not his fault, he did everything he could, but – as usual – life and the new Earth Kingdom's regime were determined to stand in his way. Resolved on not losing any more minutes, he was hopping two steps at a time. This was his last meeting during the visit and the only one he was looking for. Besides, he didn't have a chance to drop in since the place reopened – he didn't even know it's new name – and he was dying to see how it looked now. Sokka stopped at the top of the stairs to read the gray sign with black letters, located above the entrance. "Workers canteen" the sign was saying; Spirits, those guys were really creative, no doubt about it. He popped inside and immediately freezed, dizzy with the stale air and bewildered with the number of tables that they were able to cram in. It took him a while to scan the dining hall, but finally he concluded with disappointment that she wasn't there yet. 

For some reason, most of the customers, crowded around square tables, were stuffing themselves with a cabbage soup. Was it some kind of chef's special? The soup could be worth a try then, but Sokka was really hungry and needed something more substantial; something more meaty to be precise. The rumble in his stomach and the long line of people waiting to be served convinced him to take his place in the queue. He rushed to get behind the last in line – a middle-aged man with a gaping tunic, which was revealing his abundant chest hair – and had to quickly take a step back, repulsed by the odor of sweat and half-digested alcohol. Sokka's shoulders sagged; this was not exactly what he had imagined when he had heard that the Upper Ring's venues were now open for all citizens. 

The line was not moving at all and Sokka began to contemplate the new interior design of the former tea shop. The walls were, as before, divided into sections by green wooden pillars. Each section of the wall was decorated with its own painting. A horrible, horrible painting. Half of them were showing ruddy, beefy farmers happily cropping golden wheat together with their well-endowed female counterparts. On the second half, the equally happy males and females in gray factory uniforms were... Well, they were doing something, whatever it was, with their tiny, deformed hands. Sokka nodded sympathetically; he knew from his own experience that hands were always the hardest to draw. At that moment, the memory of post-war's self trying to commemorate good times at the Jasmine Dragon brought an ashamed smile on his face. He began to wonder how he would react if somebody had told him then what his life would be like in five years. 

Sokka was still lost deep in his thoughts when loud and rude "Next one!" reached him; it was coming from a sullen woman that was standing behind the counter. After a quick glance at the modest menu, written in chalk on a blackboard behind the woman's back, Sokka made a decision. 

"Can I get a plate of pig-hen noodles?" he asked. 

"Pig-hen noodles ran out," the woman barked. Zuko as a waiter must have been an epitome of kindness in comparison to her. 

"In that case, can I get a plate of crab puffs?" He tried, despite the fading hope. 

"Ran out." 

"Is there anything that didn't run out?!" Sokka asked, raising his voice, but he already knew the answer. 

"Cabbage soup." 

Looking at the long line behind him, he resolved to act in advance and took two bowls. Then, still overcome with the memories of the good old days at Jasmine Dragon, he went on to ordering drinks. 

"Do you have jasmine tea? Or ginseng? Or lychee?" Sokka couldn't decide, causing the whispers of dismay in the line behind him. 

"We have tea. Or water." 

At least the price was reasonable. Maybe it was his lucky day after all, because he noticed that a small table – placed under something that had to be a mandatory shrine of the Supreme Leader – had freed up. After settling down, Sokka took a sip of the _tea_ and twisted his face. Mental note: add the replacement of Jasmine Dragon with Workers Canteen to the list of crimes of Kuvira's regime. In the wake of the tea experience it was not a surprise to him that the cabbage soup was cold and bland. He pushed his plate away and got lost in his thoughts again. How could he deliver all the information that he had gathered to the Fire Lord insomniac without further disturbing his majesty's sleep patterns (and Sokka's, as a side effect)? He was definitely going to omit this blasphemy of his uncle's tea shop that he was sitting in, but it couldn't help much. This time he was snapped out of his reverie by a painful punch in the arm, which could only mean one thing. 

"Toph! It's been ages!" He jumped to his feet and pulled her into a tight embrace. Her hair was tickling his face, they were longer and somehow even wilder than the last time they had met. "Take a seat, I ordered you a cabbage soup," he said, when he finally released her. 

"Sweet!" exclaimed Toph, settling in the chair and lifting her legs to cross them on the table, which exposed her soiled feet. "They have the best cabbage soup in this part of the town," she added, taking the bowl from him. Sokka was waiting for her to spit the soup after the first spoon, but she continued to tuck into the dish with an appetite. He decided to give the soup a second try. 

"You are quite late, you know," Sokka said after a while in a hurt voice. "I began to wonder if you would come at all." 

"Thorry, had a buthineth to thinish," Toph mumbled, chewing on an undercooked cabbage. "By the way, the Grand Lotus sends greetings." 

"Wait a minute." He squinted at her up from his plate as he started to connect the dots. "Please, don't tell me that this business of yours has something to do with..." he said in almost a pleading tone, leaned over to Toph and lowered his voice. "...my boyfriend's uncle?" 

"Maybe it has," she said smugly. Sokka gasped. 

"But you're not part of them, part of the..." He lowered his voice even more. "...you know, crazy old people gang, are you?" 

"Nah, their membership fees are way too high," she replied with a dismissive wave of hand. Sokka choked on his soup. "Kidding!" Toph helpfully slapped his back. "Let's say I'm just doing them a favor. But being a part of a hierarchic organization is not my _cup of tea_ ," she said, grinning. 

"But seriously, should I be worried about you?" Sokka grabbed her wrist. It was a gesture that became his habit, after what they had survived on the Fire Nation airship. 

"Nope, comrade Snoozles, you have enough worries of your own," Toph said, freeing her wrist. It clearly turned their thoughts in the same direction. "How's Aang?" she asked after a while, with a solemn expression. 

"Same." Sokka shrugged and ducked his head. There really was nothing new to tell, but nonetheless he began to fill Toph in with everything he had heard from Katara recently. Suddenly, his uneasy monologue was interrupted by a loud thud. It turned out to be coming from a broad woman in a headscarf, who decided to casually join their table. "Hey!" he said. "You could at least ask if it's taken!" 

"Yeah!" Toph agreed. She pounded her feet on the floor and sent a wave that nearly tripped the woman's chair. "Learn some manners!" exclaimed the earthbender; the woman stood up, looking very offended. Then, their unwanted companion drifted away to invade another table, mumbling something under her breath. 

"So..." Sokka shifted in the chair and took the opportunity to turn the conversation from the painful subject. "I've heard that they had outdone themselves with the celebrations of the anniversary." 

Toph put her bowl down on the table with a loud clank. "If not the speech, I'd say that it was a festival of lameness." 

Sokka raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "You were there? I thought you hate such things." 

"I do." Toph snuggled down into the chair and clasped her hands behind her head. "But man, that Kuvira could _redeem me from my misery_ at any time," she said, sporting a dreamy expression, unaware of the ominous presence of the Supreme Leader's face above her head. 

"Toph!" Sokka hissed, knitting his eyebrows. Tui and La, the offence of the Supreme Leader was no joke in this country and she knew it. Sure, Toph always had been audacious, but when the heck did she become borderline reckless? 

"What?" she asked and raised her chin in defiance, crossing her arms in front of her. "Are you the only one who can bang a young, hot ruler?" 

Sokka pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. That was it. For a moment he thought that he could hear AIA agents preparing to slam into the canteen in order to drag him and Toph to Lake Laogai, to administer them something far worse than the innocent brainwashing. But when he picked himself up and finally looked around, all he saw were gloomy people hunched over their bowls, fixated on the cabbage soup like it was the most interesting thing in the world. His dread eased up a little bit. 

"Speaking of crazy, murderous chicks..." The mouthy brat was going to change the subject, but judging from her mischievous smile, he wouldn't like the next one either. "How are you getting along with your sister-in-law?" 

"First of all," he said and raised his finger. "You know that formally she's not my sister-in-law, never will and... That's actually a plus of our situation." Sokka rubbed his chin; he never thought about it from this angle. "Second, thanks Spirits, I didn't have to deal with her since the eclipse. What I have to deal with instead is Zuko's mood after his weekly visits," he said with a deep sigh. 

"Why? Is she threatening Sparky? I have a solution to that." Toph cracked her knuckles to make her point. 

"Thank you Toph, but it won't be necessary." Sokka smiled. "It's... I don't know, rather the opposite?" 

"Sparky's threatening her?" For a moment she lost her confidence and a look of confusion painted on her face. 

"No! It's like..." Sokka struggled to find the words to outline the state of Azula's mind, as described to him by Zuko, making indefinite hand gestures that weren't helping at all. He was saved by another self-invited companion joining their table, a short-haired young man, a boy even, wearing a factory uniform, who sat on the edge of a chair, next to Toph. "Seriously, what's wrong with you people?" Sokka asked, more amazed than angry this time. But the guy ignored him. 

"I see you're a tourist, are you in Ba Sing Se for the first time?" the boy turned to Toph. 

"I've been here a few times," she said and Sokka noticed that her relaxed back straightened slightly. He felt an urge to interfere, but a small voice in the back of his head told him not to. 

"I live in Ba Sing Se, with my mother, near the Green Plaza. They sell the best chestnuts there." Their new companion gave Toph a pointed look. 

"Kenji says they are the most delicious in the autumn," she replied, without losing a bit. 

"He sends you a fresh batch." The boy almost unnoticeably handed her something under the table and immediately rushed towards the exit. She turned it over in her hands, it was a scrap of paper with the White Lotus sign on top of it. 

"I'm blind, you morons!" she shouted towards the messenger, waving her hand in front of her eyes, but the guy was already gone. "Will they ever learn that 'Blind Bandit' is my code name for a reason?" Toph handed the scrap over to Sokka, crossed her arms on her chest and ducked her head. She looked like an angry child at that moment, which in fact she kind-of was. What was Iroh thinking? Toph might have been the greatest earthbender in the world, and a mouthy one on top of that, but she was still a kid. Next time Sokka would have to... 

"Read it!" the kid impatiently demanded. 

"Alright, alright..." Sokka looked at the message and his chest tightened with fear. 

"What is it, Snoozles? Your heart behaves as if you're going to have a heart attack." 

"Toph," he said in a weak voice and stood up. "I need to go back to the Fire Nation. Immediately." 


	2. It Must Run in the Family

The impassive face of Agni had risen well above the horizon, unleashing a violent light that was trying to force its way through the heavy curtains. Princess Azula, the former glory of the Fire Nation, the conqueror of the impenetrable city of Ba Sing Se, was still weighing the pros and cons of getting up. Which was not a trivial task, considering that the golden embroidery of the scarlet canopy spread above her head was competing for her attention. Two poorly hand knitted dragons, sewed with uneven seams with lots of sticking threads were a great attractor, which was effectively derailing her thought process. She once again began to enumerate pros of not rotting in her bed for the rest of the day, aware that something important was hidden from her behind the brain fog. 

Azula turned her head from the damned dragons and cast her eyes upon the yellowed scroll on Battle of Zhulu Pass, sitting on her nightstand. She had requested that scroll from her brother months ago and he finally deigned to deliver it to her just last week. Her brother... That was it, today was the day of Zuzu's visit. If he had found out that she was again staying in bed by Agni forbidden hours, he wouldn't stop nagging; she was sick of it. Azula could, of course, shoot him with a lightning – this time in such a way that poor Zuzu wouldn't be able to redirect it – and thus shut him up forever. However, she didn't feel like electrocuting her brother today. Or doing anything at all, for that matter; today, or any other day of her pointless life. With a deep sigh, princess Azula crawled out of her bed and shook the little bell, which signaled the servants that she would soon grace the dressing room with her presence. 

One of the servants, a short, thick haired girl, was already waiting at the dressing room's doors, nervously kicking her heels, when Azula got there. The maid rushed to the door, just as she spotted her princess, and clumsily pulled one of its heavy wings to let her in. The princess stepped in and swept her eyes over the crimson tapestries ornamented with golden floral pattern, waiting for the servant to pull the chair out for her. Then, as usual, she sat in front of the dressing table and the maid, as usual, started brushing the princess's waist-long silky hair. She always had beautiful hair and it was probably her only feature that hadn't changed. Azula reluctantly looked into the large mirror in front of her; the view wasn't pleasant. Despite her nineteen years of age, she appeared at least a decade older. And today the dark circles under her eyes – memento of the sleepless nights – were especially pronounced. 

At least her own reflection wasn't the most disturbing thing that she could see in the mirror... Feeling a sharp pain, ripping through her chest, she decided to focus on the servant's reflection instead. The girl had an exceptionally ill-favored look: her face was decorated with different sized eyes and a large bulbous nose. She must have come from one of those desolate island villages, cursed with the high rate of inbreeding. Azula looked over at the maid's slightly shaking stubby fingers and counted strokes of the brush. Then the princess slowly raised her left palm and ordered the girl to stop. The servant hesitantly withdrew her hands, still clutching the brush, and looked at the princess's reflection with a frightened expression. 

"Tell me, servant," Azula said in a calm voice. "Have you attended any school?" 

"I finished elementary school, princess," the girl replied quietly, boring her eyes into the figured carpet at her feet. 

"In that case, what prevents you from brushing each strand at least ten times, as you are supposed to? You should be able to count to at least ten, you can use your fingers if you need to." Azula raised her palms and stretched out her fingers. Her servant's face crumpled. "Or not." The princess crossed her arms and lifted her chin. "Get out of my sight and send me somebody better qualified for the task." 

"Yes princess, I beg your forgiveness," the maid said through the tears, bowed deeply and scurried to the door. 

Azula looked over at the door, which closed with a loud bang. The incompetence of the servants transported with her on that spirits-forsaken island was unbearable. They wouldn't last a week in the Royal Palace, at least in Azula's day. But apparently little Zuzu had much lower standards for the servants, as he did for everything else throughout his life. The next maid that came to the dressing room was an older, gray-haired woman, who at least could properly brush the princess's hair and make a semi-decent topknot. After finishing the hair, the servant applied make-up, which partially concealed Azula's sallow skin and the dark circles under her eyes. Still, her look was far from perfect; just like any other aspect of her current, pathetic life. Was this wretched existence even worth pursuing? 

"Do you need anything else, princess?" the servant asked politely, shaking her out of her reverie. 

She dismissed the servant and directed her steps to the study; there was still some time left before Zuko's arrival. When she entered the darkened room, she realized that she had come here with some specific purpose, but she couldn't recall what it was. She approached one of the bookcases in order to pick something to occupy her mind for the rest of the time. She began with the old scroll on the unification wars of Fire Islands, however she quickly lost her interest and put the scroll on the desk. Next, she tried with one of her latest additions: a thin book on the new generation of airships, written by someone under the ridiculous pseudonym Wang Fire; the book also landed on her desk. Azula tried to engage in a few other subjects, but all the literature met the same fate. 

At some point her gaze fell upon "The Geography and History of West Zhidaru", which must had been somehow snuck there by her brother. What a subtle attempt to interest her in their mother's place of origin it was. Not on your life, she thought and decided that it was the time to leave the study. She looked at the mahogany desktop, which was now covered with books and scrolls. For a moment she was tempted to leave it for the servants to clean, but she knew that those half-brained morons couldn't get it right. She left the study only after she had put all the items back on the shelves, ensuring that they were ordered thematically. 

After giving up on finding herself a constructive activity, Azula decided to move to the pier and just wait there. The amount of light outside the main entrance was initially blinding, but after a moment her eyes adjusted to it. She chose the shortest path, which led through the vast, flourishing garden, which was specifically ordered by her dear brother. Nay, the architects of the garden were even supervised by him during the design phase. How could she ever repay him? She wouldn't even approach her current level of miserableness without suffocating smell of jasmine and cherry or excruciating squawking of the turtleducks, occupying a sizable pond located at the center of the garden. 

As she got close to the wooden bridge, leading over the pond, one of the said turtleducks appeared within her reach. Azula swung her leg back, trying to kick it, but the beast must have to outguess her, because it quickly moved away towards the water with a loud squeal. The princess showed it a cut-throat gesture and slowly crossed the bridge, then passed the ornate stone arch and entered the paved path leading towards the edge of the cliff. Finally, after descending Agni knows how many tiny steps carved in rock, she reached the small wooden pier. It was sunny, but quite a windy day; the waves were loudly crashing against the pillars. Unbothered by the strong blows, she sat at the end of the pier, leaning hands on the rough wood, swinging her legs and vacantly staring at the horizon; her mind was empty. 

Azula was beginning to lose the track of time. Suddenly, she heard a loud boom followed by a rumble, coming from above. She jumped to her feet and looked up, but she couldn't see anything, so she darted towards the cliff and began to run up the stairs. When she stormed to the paved path, she realized that she had made a gravely mistake. On the high ground on the other side of the island she sighted a tall figure, which must have been a combustion bender. The existence of a combustion bender that she didn't know about seemed almost impossible, but it was the only explanation of what she had witnessed a second before: a beam sent from a great distance that finished the job of the total destruction of Azula's mansion. The combustion bender spotted her too; he threw his head back in a characteristic gesture of channeling his chi. At the last moment, Azula managed to swing her arm in front of her, creating a fire shield. The force of the blast moved her several feet backwards, almost to the edge of the cliff, but she remained unharmed by the heat. 

The princess's heart was pounding and her mind, for the first time in many years, was working at full speed. There was no use going down to the pier, since there was no place there to hide. She couldn't reach the combustion bender from that distance with her fire, because it would extinguish and she couldn't generate lightning, because it was much slower process than generating the other bender's beam. If only she could hide behind some obstacle... 

Azula in no time made a decision and rushed towards the stone arch. One peak from behind the arch confirmed her that it wasn't a good decision; the combustion bender was already aiming at the construction. The princess leaped forward and rolled, feeling the splinters hitting her body. There was only one obstacle that could protect her long enough to allow her to generate lightning: the ruins of the mansion. Azula had no other choice than to run to the ruins, shielding herself from the combustion bender's blasts. 

At the pond she chose to not take the bridge, since it was obscuring the view too much, instead she began to run about the pond. The next blast pushed her into the water with a loud splash, almost knocking her down; she rushed back on the shore and sprinted into the reed. And then the impossible happened: she tripped and fell to the ground, painfully hitting her shoulder. She was only able to turn her head and look at the combustion bender, who was already throwing his head back. 

Seconds before the blast, the curved object appeared out of nowhere and hit the attacker in the third eye tattoo. The bender staggered, unable to focus his chi. This was all the princess needed; she sprang at her feet and started to perform all too well known circular motions. Then she aimed and shot a lightning that was not as powerful nor as precise as she had intended, however sufficient, her would-be assassin collapsed on the ground. Azula noticed that she was sloppy – not as sloppy as the Fire Lord crown stealer – but still much below her standards. She looked around searching for any other threat, but she didn't notice anything, so she brushed her tunic with her hands and looked on the ground in order to identify the object over which she had tripped. The object turned out to be a low, wooden box containing the turtleducks nest. Oh, they would suffer, she thought. They would be boiled alive, one by one, and they would have to look at each other agony. But the turtleducks would have to wait for their punishment. 

On the high ground she noticed another figure, which threw the combustion bender's body on its back and disappeared over the hill, apparently heading to the beach located on the other side of the island. She looked around once more, the field seemed to be clear, so she sprinted towards the hill. Oh Zuzu, she thought on her way up, why so dramatic? Her brother could have silently poisoned her, but of course he chose to get the combustion bender out of nowhere to spectacularly blow up her mansion. This must have been a result of spending far too much time with Ursa on that theater nonsense. After reaching the top of the hill Azula started descending to the other side, using scarce trees as a cover. Near the beach she squatted behind a moss-covered boulder, trying to steady her breath, and took a better look at the scene that was unfolding there. 

The body of the combustion bender was tied by a rope to a partially sunken jet ski. The attacker had been a tall, thin _woman_ with a long braid and shaved sides; the princess definitely hadn't known about her existence. The second figure turned out to be a tanned Fire Nation private. He was busy with carrying large sized stones to the chest-height water and throwing them into the boiler of the jet ski. The man also had shaved sides, but his brown hair was surprisingly tied into a wolftail. Azula noticed some kind of an unusual weapon attached to his back. A boomerang? She looked closely at his moves; it had to be him. Admittedly, he was now much taller and broader than he had been during their last encounter; nevertheless, she was sure, it was the Avatar's pathetic non-bending companion. What was his name? Sakka? Sakko? Sokko? 

Azula looked around, she and the Water Tribe peasant were the only people there, not counting the corpse. The princess steadily climbed down on the beach and stood a few feet apart from the peasant, resting her hands on her hips. She took the most regal posture that she could, despite uneven breath, hurting shoulder and the strong wind ruffling her bangs. The non-bender gave her a quick glance, but he didn't bother to break away from his work. 

"What are you doing, peasant?" she asked, lifting her chin. 

"Saving your life, you're welcome Azula," he replied, still occupied with his job. "Oh, you mean with the jet ski and our new friend?" the peasant realized. "I'm covering the tracks and slowing down the chase behind us," he explained, shouting over the waves. 

_Us?_ She felt a tightening sensation in her chest. "Tell me, where is my brother?" she demanded with slightly too much tension in her voice. At these words the peasant finally stopped, waist-height in the water, raised his head and looked her in the eyes. His face was contorted. 

He took a deep breath. "There was a coup..." Azula's blood ran cold; for a moment she couldn't hide her shock. The peasant quickly raised his hands in a reassuring gesture. "Zuko is alive," he said, looking surprised at his own words. "He's under house arrest, but he's safe..." The last part sounded like he was trying hard to convince himself. Meanwhile, Azula regained her composure. 

"What coup? Who organized it?" she asked suspiciously. 

He clenched his fists. "Generals led by damned Zhao the younger," he said and it clearly snapped him out of his stupor; he began to walk vigorously towards the beach, loudly splashing the water. 

Azula crossed her arms on her chest. "And why should I believe you?" 

Something resembling a twisted smile appeared on the peasant's face. "He thought so," he said, nodding his head. He approached the linen bag lying on the sand, wiped his hands on the upper part of his vest – the only element of his outfit that wasn't soaked at that point – rifled the bag and finally handed her a rolled sheet of paper. Then he went back to sinking the jet ski. 

Azula recognized Royal Family stationery; the letter was undoubtedly written in a hurry. 

> _Azula,_  
>  _you have to leave the Fire Nation immediately. I know you're thinking that you don't need anybody, especially a non-bender, but you have no idea how the world has changed in the last five years. Sokka can navigate in it like no one else and I trust him with my life. Please, have his back as he will have yours. This will increase the chances of both of you to ~~survive~~ stay safe and I need you both to stay safe. Don't worry about me._  
>    
>  _Zuko_

The princess committed the letter to the flames and let the wind scatter the ashes from her hand. She looked into the direction of her mansion, or rather its smoky ruins, which were completely obstructed by the hill. All of a sudden, she was seized by a reluctance to leave the island; for a moment she almost regretted that she hadn't been at home during the attack. But then Azula reminded herself who had attempted to assassinate her. She couldn't give that bunch of incompetent fools the satisfaction, even at the cost of leaving her island. And putting up with some Water Tribe peasant – who finally succeeded at sinking the combustion bender's vehicle and came out of the water for good – for a while. Maybe she could make some use of him after all. 

The peasant slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed Azula by the arm. "Come, there's no time to lose," he said firmly. 

"Don't touch me, peasant," the princess hissed and jerked her arm, but at the same time she began to walk in the direction that he was facing. "How did you get here?" 

He pointed towards the slope occluding the reminding part of the beach. "My boat is over there. Unfortunately, getting here was much easier than getting out of here, we will have to use tacking," the peasant said and sighed. 

"Can you express yourself more clearly?" 

"The boat can't proceed directly into the wind, and of course this is our direction, because it never rains but it pours." He lifted his arms up to the clear sky in a theatrical gesture. The Water Tribe peasant must have been spending a lot of time with her brother. "We will have to make the boat move in a zig-zag course," he explained, waving his hand to illustrate his words. 

"We?" Azula didn't like his overuse of plural forms. 

"Yes, you will help me." The princess opened her mouth to scold him, but the peasant didn't give her a chance to speak. "Look, I'm not crazy about it either, you're the last person that I would voluntarily choose as my crewmen on any other day, but now we must get away from here as fast as possible." 

The last statement was undeniably true; Azula glanced once more towards where the ruins should be and gritted her teeth. They passed the slope, which was gently descending to the sea, and stopped in front of a small wooden boat moored in shallow water off the beach; the white sails were flapping loudly. 

The princess rested one hand on her hip and pointed towards the boat. "And of course you would use inferior Water Tribe technology." 

"Should I remind you what saved your life literally minutes ago?" The peasant jerked his thumb towards the boomerang attached to his back and eagerly walked into the water. "Besides, it's not inferior, it has an unlimited range, which can't be said about that inefficient coal-devouring abomination of yours," he said, fondly patting the boat; then he waved his hand towards it. "Get in, I'll show you what to do." When Azula hesitantly stepped into the cold water, which immediately soaked her clothes, the peasant abruptly turned to her. "Just to be clear, firebending on a wooden boat is a big no-no," he said like he was instructing a toddler. 

Azula rolled her eyes and climbed on to the boat; it smelled of damp and varnish. She immediately used her breath of fire to dry her clothes. The peasant gave her a disapproving look and followed her on board. He sat on the edge of the boat, near the stern; the boat swayed slightly. 

"OK, so here's what we'll be doing, please join me," he said and patted the edge on his right side. Azula cautiously took her place, looking at the water rippling behind her back. The peasant handed her a rope and grabbed another one. "You hold this sheet tight as I do mine. When we are about to change direction I check if the area is clear and shout 'lee-ho', then each of us releases about that much of their sheet. Next, we step across the boat together, ducking under the boom, which is moving above our heads." He pointed to the horizontal beam under the sail. "We take the same positions on the other side of the boat and you tighten your sheet again. If everything goes right, the boat turns about 90 degrees. Then, after some time, we turn the boat into the opposite direction, which works practically the same. And then we repeat this sequence, again and again, until Tui and La show us some mercy. Stay focused and watch your head." He positioned the sail and jumped back to the water. The princess took one last look on the island that was her home and her prison for almost three years now. 

The Water tribesman unmoored the boat, pushed it and quickly climbed inside; she noticed well-developed muscles rippling under his tanned skin. He took his position near the stern, holding the rope in his right hand and the wooden tiller in his left hand. The wind loosened a braided strand from his wolftail; the Fire Nation Army uniform was now looking ridiculous on him. Soon, they started turning the boat; the sail was flapping noisily as they were stepping under it. After a few repetitions of the maneuver Azula grasped its mechanics, but she was trying to remain focused. On her skin she could feel the warmth of the Agni's rays and the dampness of the water, the rough linen rope was painfully skinning her palms and the sweat running down her face was leaving a salty taste on her lips, yet despite those vivid sensations the whole experience seemed unreal; she had to fight off the urge to look for the dragons. 

The wind began to change after what felt like an eternity to her. 

"Alright, you can now rest, crewmen," said the peasant in a tired voice, taking the rope from her hand and securing it to the cleat. Azula slid down from the edge of the boat to the small wooden bench. "Actually, you did quite a good job, you got it right much quicker than..." he faltered. 

"I've learned something faster than Zuzu? What a surprise..." she said and tilted her head. Then she turned away to stare at the mind-numbing nothingness surrounding them. Her lately scarce mental resources were depleted; on top of that she was overcome by physical exhaustion, but she had to stay alert. It was time for clarifications. "If Zuko is under house arrest, how did you manage to get a letter from him?" she asked, turning back to the peasant, who moved to the front of the boat and was manipulating the smaller sail. 

He went back to the stern and took the tiller. "If I was into a spiritual mumbo-jumbo I'd say that we're both still alive because of destiny, but it was just a fluke. I was in Ba Sing Se on a...trip and I accidentally read the message meant for the White Lotus members and _associates_." For some reason he twisted his face at the last word. "It was ordering them to stay in touch as the massive shift of Fire Nation troops towards the Capital had been observed. Zuko didn't approve such dislocation and the former war council has been acting really weird lately, so I quickly put two and two together. I got back as fast I could, undercover." He tugged at his uniform and took a deep breath. "In the middle of the post-coup chaos I was able to use the hidden passageways to get to Zuko's chambers," he said and his face began to crumple. 

"How come you knew the way?" Azula asked sharply. Even her brother had a poor understanding of the passageways, despite her constant attempts to make him play with her there at their childhood. 

Anger flickered in his blue eyes. "I don't know, maybe I spent weeks exploring that gigantic breach of security and then twice as long working on a system of hidden locks?" 

She dismissively waved her hand. "Whatever." The peasant took a rope in his hands and gave her a glare. "You got to my brother's chambers, and then?" His hands went limp and his face was looking like he was in physical pain. He was losing more and more composure, especially since steering the boat became less demanding. 

"I begged him to come with me, but..." His voice cracked. The princess raised her hand to stop him from talking. 

"Let me guess, _his honor_?" she asked, imitating Zuko's raspy voice. 

"It was not honorable to flee his people." The Water tribesman yanked the rope too hard and the mast creaked. "Even though they were the same people who were blaming him for everything and burning his dummies at their stupid rallies," he said, furrowing his brows. 

Azula threw her head back, closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. What have you done, Dum-Dum? This was exactly why she didn't want to touch on the subject of politics with her brother – except of course the main reason being that it would be a stark reminder of her defeat – she knew that he would make a mistake after a mistake; the mistakes she would not make as a Fire Lord. But Azula never in her worst nightmare could have imagined the extent of the damage that had been done. 

"People were doing what?!" she asked. "In my father's day even the most recalcitrant general would be scared to so much as think about insulting the Fire Lord, let alone the commoners." 

"You know that Zuko is nothing like that son of a bitch," the peasant said, raising his voice. 

"And yet he ended up just like him." She almost smiled at the realization. The peasant abruptly stood up, rocking the boat, his face was twisted in rage and he clenched his fists as if he could harm her in any way. She gave him a scornful look; after a few moments of a lost in advance staring contest, he slowly sat down and turned his head aside. 

"Look, the last five years weren't exactly great for the Fire Nation," he finally spoke in a sullen tone, his gaze fixed on the sea. 

"Oh, weren't they?" Azula faked a surprise. "Fire Nation was flourishing when _I_ was going to ascend the throne," she said, putting her hand on her chest. 

"What Ozai had left was a mess," the peasant said passionately, turning back to her. "Zuko was doing everything to fix this, but he had to pay the war reparations, reduce the size of your ridiculously overgrown army and shut down most of the military factories, which thanks to that dick Sozin, made up a large part of the industry. As a reward, he got a lot of angry people, lots and lots of angry people, accusing him of everything from being the puppet of the Avatar, making the Fire Nation a servant of the other nations and depraving young minds with his radical ideas to causing the drought on Shuhon Island, unbearable heat of the Capital and Zhaos's wife's bad mood," he blurted out. The princess rolled her eyes. "The things, however, were improving, we were slowly getting out of the woods, the investment in the research on new farming technologies finally began to pay off and we... Zuko thought he got everything under control..." The peasant's blue eyes were wet. 

"But he miscalculated?" Azula asked bitterly. It must run in the family, she thought. 

"He didn't expect the Fire Sages to betray him," he said and this time he took his frustration on the tiller. The boat heeled dangerously. 

The princess took a safer position on her bench. "Zuzu should have been paying more attention at the history lessons, he would have known what to expect from those spineless rats. There was a good reason why my great grandfather subjugated them." 

"The Sages agreed to support the generals on the condition that they won't harm the Fire Lord, because it would be a great offense of Agni. But apparently Agni is completely fine with Zuko being held a prisoner." His words were followed by another ominous creak of the mast. Azula began to wonder how long could that clunky boat of his stand their conversation. "And, as you might have noticed, Agni is also completely fine with the extermination of the Fire Nation princess," he added in a much calmer voice. "Oh, and by the way, those assholes are well aware of what you did in Ba Sing Se, so we can expect them to be quite persistent." 

The princess spat with contempt and closed her extremely heavy eyelids. She could temporarily stop interrogating the peasant as she got general answers for the most urgent questions. Even for those unasked, like the one regarding the exact nature of his relationship with her brother. Who would have thought? Zuzu's strange fondness of the commoners was one thing, but the carnal knowledge of one of them was quite another; he was befouling himself and it was truly saddening. On the bright side, the thought of that traitor Mai being cheated on or even better, left for the Water Tribe savage was deeply satisfying. 

Azula opened her eyes and realized with annoyance that she must have fallen asleep for a moment. In the following long hours, she was desperately trying to stay conscious, but even painful biting her cheek was for nothing. The princess's treacherous body wasn't cooperating and she was drifting away from time to time. It was only after the sky began getting dark, when the cool breeze that ran across her face sobered her up. Soon, she noticed a vague shape looming in front of them. The peasant – Sokka, she corrected herself with a slight disgust – set a course for it; Azula gave him a quizzical look. 


	3. In a Middle of Nowhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slightly heavier chapter, not only in terms of length - it covers some war-related topics, but nothing very graphic.

"Don't look at me like that, it's time to get some shut-eye," Sokka said and adjusted the position of the sail. His passenger wasn't exactly jumping for joy at that prospect, despite being barely able to keep her eyes open. "Unless we can switch roles and from now on you'll become a helmsman and I'll become the one dozing on the bench," he added. After the events of previous days, he was on his last legs. The past couple of hours were a blur; how he was able to carry on without sleep for so long was a mystery to him. 

"Only if we can switch this primitive boat with something produced by a remotely civilized nation," she said, tilting her head in that irritating manner of hers. Then she frowned and pointed her pale, bony finger to the island, which began to take shape as they were getting closer. "Is it inhabited?" 

"Yeah, there should be some fishing villages there. But I'm sure they haven't got a messenger hawk with our wanted posters yet, if that's what worries you. It's a middle of nowhere, for tonight it should be just hunky-dory." Sokka reached into his bag, took out two burgundy cloaks and handed one of them to Azula. "You've got to put it on, though, it's best not to take chances with your look-at-me-I'm-stinking-rich pajamas," he said and glanced towards the island, looking for a bay. 

Azula put the cloak away and crossed her arms in front of her. "You seem well-versed in the Fire Nation's inner workings," she said, scrutinizing him. 

"Well, I've been living here for a while now," he replied sincerely. The first remark directed at him that wasn't a straight insult should've rung an alarm bell in his head, but he was too tired to keep his guard up. 

"Have you? And what sort of _service_ are you offering to the Fire Lord?" 

Sokka straightened proudly. "I'd been sent here as a Southern Water Tribe ambassador, but I resigned because of the conflict of interest." 

"In that case, what is your _position_ in the court now?" She tilted her head again, leaving him no choice but to strike back. 

"Hasn't your brother told you yet? I'm the Prince of the Fire Nation," he said, looking closely at her reaction. It was worth it, for a split of a second shock twisted her mocking face. Unfortunately, the deception didn't last long, but at least in the background Sokka finally spotted silhouettes of fishing boats moored at the shore. Azula was preparing to start a tirade, but he shushed her with a wave of his hand and pointed towards a slightly moving figure, sitting on the beach. "Formally I'm one of his advisers, if you must know," he said quietly and urged her to put the cloak on. 

The Water tribesman steered his boat to the pier, passing dolefully swaying cutters along the way. The moss-covered pier, which clearly had seen better days, squeaked loudly under his weight when he stepped on it. After securing the boat, Sokka stretched and took a deep breath of fish-scented humid air; the smell as well as the steady sound of waves and the mewing of the seagulls felt familiar and soothing. He gestured to Azula to follow him, warning her to watch her steps as the pier was missing some planks. They went down to the muddy beach, passed the fishing nets drying on wooden poles and approached the figure sitting among the barrels. It turned out to be an elderly bearded man repairing an ancient fishing net; a man with an eagle hawk eye, considering the low light of the setting sun. 

"Praised be Agni." Sokka bowed politely, noticing in the corner of his eye that the princess stood still, wrinkling her nose. "How's today's catch? I've heard that Shishamo is abundant this year." 

The old-timer grunted and waved his gnarled hand. "It's nothing like it used to be," he muttered. "What brings you here? Is another war brewing?" he asked, looking at them from under his bushy eyebrows. 

Sokka wrapped himself tighter in his cloak. "None that we know about. We're on our way to our friend's wedding at the Capital. We didn't plan to make a stop, but she couldn't decide what to pack for half a day and here we are." He jerked his head towards Azula, ignoring her murderous glare. "You know how women are." 

"Tell me about it." The villager nodded with understanding, put the net away and stood up. "Well, there ain't no fancy inn here, but I can take you to my cousin, she has a spare room." 

They left the beach and climbed the curving path leading to the village. Unsurprisingly, the entire village consisted of two rows of wooden cottages, stretching across the muddy road. Its elderly inhabitants, undaunted by a cool breeze, were occupying the garden benches; unsurprisingly, they were watching the three of them with a great interest. Finally, the fisherman stopped in front of a neglected cottage surrounded by a low wooden fence. Sokka absently looked at the old pickets; they were crooked and leaning towards the ground, just like all the villagers that he had spotted so far. 

There was nobody home, so the old man invited them to sit with him on the wooden bench placed under the wall. He was asking a lot of inconvenient questions, so when a vague shape appeared at the end of the road, Sokka really hoped that it would be the man's cousin. But it wasn't her. It was an unshaven young man, struggling to move along the uneven path with his rough-hewn, creaking wheelchair. From time to time the man was stopping to passionately argue with an invisible opponent, waving his arms wildly; he must've been completely drunk. 

"Hey kid," the fisherman yelled towards him. "Stop talking about them damned airships and they'll stop kicking you out!" 

"Airships?" Sokka asked quietly and instinctively tugged on his hood. His heart began to pound faster. 

"Yeah, he won't shut up about them." The old man sighed. "You see, most of our boys didn't return from the war, and those who did..." He clicked his tongue and shook his head. 

Soon, another figure appeared on the road: a pregnant girl with a long braid and a tired expression that didn't match her childlike face. She approached the drunken soldier and after a short quarrel, she began to strenuously push the wheelchair down the road, fighting against the mud. 

"At least they're popular among ladies, because they're all that left," the fisherman said and cackled as if he had told a good joke. "Oh, and there she is." He pointed to the woods; a petite old woman was coming towards the cottage, carrying something heavy on her back. 

For a moment Sokka stared at her vacantly, but then he rushed towards her, bowing on his way. He took from her a heavy tow sack filled with firewood and explained to her the reason for their visit. 

She smiled friendly. "Very well. Please, come in, I'll show you the room, so you could decide if you like it." 

"We'll take it," Sokka said, overcome by a frantic need to hide. "I'm sure we'll like it." He was hoping that their host wouldn't see Azula's grimacing face in the darkness. 

They followed the woman, whose name was Shima, to the tiny hallway, cramped with sacks, buckets and other items of unknown use, which smelled a little bit of mold. Sokka noticed a basin indicating that the hallway was at the same time a bathroom; the princess surely wouldn't like it, but it was the least of his problems. Their room, which was clearly built on well after the cottage was finished, turned out to be slightly bigger, it was able to accommodate a narrow bed, small wardrobe and a dresser. 

"I have only one bed," Shima said apologetically, lighting the candle on the dresser. "But I'll bring you the blankets, so you'll be able to make yourself comfortable on the floor, young man." The flickering light of the candle illuminated a portrait, hanging above the dresser; it was depicting a cheerful Fire Nation soldier. 

"Is this your son?" Azula asked with a sudden interest. Sokka's legs buckled under him and he was barely registering the following conversation. 

"It was my son." The old woman's expression became sad. "Nemi died on the last day of the war." 

"I'm sorry for your loss," Azula said indifferently and approached the portrait to take a better look. "I suppose you must be furious with the Avatar and Fire Lord Zuko then?" 

"I am," Shima said in an unexpectedly stern tone and raised her head. "I am furious with them for not ending that pointless war earlier. But I'll tell you what. I don't care what they say about him." She took a deep breath and put her small hand on her chest. "I've lived here for seventy four years and I assure you with all my heart that Fire Lord Zuko – Agni bless him – is the best thing that happened to this country since Avatar Roku." Shima ended her speech with tears shimmering in her eyes. Then she ducked her head and slowly smoothed the folds of her seedy tunic. "But you haven't come here to listen to the old woman's rambling, and you must be hungry," she said softly. "I wasn't prepared for guests, but I'll run down to my cousin, he'll borrow me some fish for sure." 

Sokka quickly raised his hand. "Please, don't trouble yourself." 

"Oh, it would be a pleasure for me," Shima said. "I know that probably it'll be nothing compared to what you are used to, but it's all that I can offer," she added sheepishly, glancing at Azula. 

"We would be more than happy to have it," Sokka said in a faint voice. 

Shima smiled and contentedly left their room, closing the door behind her. Azula was looking around in disgust. Finally, she spread her cloak over a narrow bed and sat on it cross-legged with a straight back, resting her hands on her knees. When Sokka was sure that their host had left the cottage, he turned to Azula, who was glancing at him with a blank face. 

"What was that for?" he hissed. "Does drawing old women to tears really bring you joy?" 

"As far as I can recall, it's possible that you are the one who is directly responsible for her misery," she said tonelessly. 

"I didn't have a choice!" Sokka shouted and turned his back on her, but this way he was facing Nemi's joyful face, so he turned towards the dark window instead, trying to hide the tears running down his cheeks. 

He hadn't had a choice then and he shouldn't dwell on it, he should focus on the present. Which was only getting worse: after leaving Zuko behind, he had almost failed his task at the very beginning, then they had to make this ill-fated stop and of course Azula had to be Azula. Sokka felt a strong urge to run away and abandon the princess to her fate. To overcome that tempting idea, he had to recall the image of Zuko wearing his majestic robe and the regal headpiece, starkly contrasting with his nearly pleading tone, in which he was asking to take his sister to safety. The promise had been made, together with the contradictory promise that Sokka would try to stay safe himself, but, well, the Water tribesman knew what he was signing up for. He performed a calming breathing technique, which Zuko had taught him, and suddenly it occurred to him that Azula didn't fully realize her situation. 

"Listen, I don't have to babysit you," he said, still facing the window. "And soon, apart from the combustion freaks, all the grunts of this country will be trying to kill you. How many of them can you fight at once? And if you'll try to cross the UPRE border without papers..." 

"The border of what?" she asked sharply. 

Sokka sighed; his strong emotions began to slowly fade, giving a way to a pervasive tiredness. He wiped his tears, turned back to Azula, and for the first time got a good look at her. The princess was a young woman now, as always appearing older than she was; back then, it was because she'd been the most intimidating fourteen-year-old on earth. Now, she was still intimidating, but there was something more to this, something that unexpectedly brought back the memories of the South Pole, from before his father had left to the war. In those days, to make provisions for the winter, Hakoda and other men of the village had been whaling. Usually, by driving the whales to the shallow water with their boats; then they were hammering the spears into their bodies and dragging them onto the beach. The look in Azula's eyes was reminding Sokka of the hunted whale – the ruler of the seas, suddenly defeated and hopeless; he was beginning to understand what Zuko had been trying to explain to him. 

"Well?" she demanded. 

"The border of the United People's Republics of Earth," Sokka said, flopping down on his own cloak, spread on the floor. " _The Earth Kingdom is no more_." 

"Who had attacked it?" she asked, looking at him from above and frowning in confusion. 

"Its own people." He settled on the cloak and rested his back and head against the front of the dresser. "Peasants, factory workers and part of the army had together overthrown the Earth Kings. It was the most massive uprising that had ever happened. And I don't blame them, their life conditions were really miserable, this village may be considered filthy rich in comparison to some of theirs." 

"And I thought they've lived happily ever after, thanks to Zuzu's reparations," Azula said, holding her finger on her cheek. 

Sokka gave her the stink eye. "Zuko was not only paying the reparations, but also sharing the Fire Nation technology. Most of the Earth Kings were pushing for a quick industrialization, but the only gain for their people was that now besides being exploited in the field they could be also exploited in the factories..." 

The princess shrugged. "In any case, I'm sure that the peasants won't be in power for long," she said contemptuously, but there was a shadow of doubt in her voice. 

He laughed bitterly. "It's been over a year now, they're not going anywhere, Azula." 

Her perfectly straight back hunched a little bit. "And what your precious Avatar has to say about it?" 

"Aang is not...present." Sokka fiddled with one of the straps of his uniform. "It wasn't perfect before, but everything really went to shit only after he..." 

"Is he dead?" 

"He's not! He is... Well, no one really knows what happened to him." Sokka scratched his head. "He was in that forest with Katara, but they got separated and she found him like that. It's like... Like the time when you shot him with lightning, only this time it's rather spiritual. But neither the Northern Water Tribe healers nor the Fire Sages were able to..." He was interrupted by Azula's unpleasant laughter. 

"Did Dum-Dum really ask the Fire Sages for help in a spiritual matter?" The princess was amused. "But they're as spiritual as the damned turtle ducks at my pond." 

"You're right, but we were desperate." Sokka nodded his head. He recalled Fire Sage Umun's far too good mood and wobbly gait, gracing the ceremonies held at the High Temple. "Did you know that supposedly Fire Sage Umun has a penchant for a lighter fluid?" 

Azula snorted and waved her hand. "Please, everyone knows about that. And it's nothing in comparison to Fire Sage Somo's little addiction," she said with an evil smirk. 

"What about him?" Sokka pricked up his ears with interest, he really couldn't stand that buffoon. 

The princess sighed wearily, as if she was going to explain something obvious to a not very bright child, and rested her hands on the bed behind her back. Her posture was now more relaxed, at least by the Royal Family standards. Although Sokka hadn't interacted with her much until now, he was sure that she was just like Zuko in their early days: always tense, alert and ready to repel an attack at any moment. 

"So there is this Royal tailor, Wei, who has a son..." Azula began, but he chimed in. 

"Enzo, a guard, I know him! We spar from time to time, he's quite a funny guy," he recalled. 

"Doesn't that guard's face remind you of anyone?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow. Sokka gasped and covered his mouth as the uncanny resemblance suddenly struck him. "And he's not the only one in the Palace..." 

They began to exchange the information on the Fire Sages, palace staff and everyone who came into his mind, including the Fire Nation nobles. Azula's knowledge unsurprisingly turned out to run much deeper than his, but she was missing the last five years for obvious reasons, so he filled her in. And as strange as it was, gossiping with the princess made Sokka feel a tiny bit better. Which couldn't of course last long, because their host, who some time ago had gotten back home, called them for dinner. 

Sokka's heart paused for a beat as he entered the small kitchen, filled with the scent of smoked fish, and noticed the portrait of Zuko in the place of honor, right to the furnace and just above the row of hanging pots. The portrait was fairly new, but already somehow run-down and it depicted the Fire Lord overlooking the blossoming fields, all painted in candy colors. He quickly sat at the table with his back to the portrait, forcing Azula to take a place facing it, while their host huddled to the side. Shima really had made an effort, the little table was almost groaning under the plates with a fish, salad and sliced mango, completed with a teapot and three cups. 

"Eat, my dear, it'll do you good," Shima encouraged Azula warmly, pouring the tea. Then she turned to Sokka. "You look too young for that uniform, just like our Nemi did," she said and smiled sadly. "But we were so proud of him. He was a true Agni's blessing, you know?" 

The old woman began to tell stories about her son and soon she got lost in her own world, which must've been much better than the reality; she looked younger and taller, almost like if someone took a heavy weight from her shoulders. Sokka was fighting against his revolting stomach to eat the dinner, trying to not hurt her feelings. At some point he looked at Azula, who was strangely quiet, and noticed that she was staring intensely at the portrait behind his back. He recalled that moment on the boat, when she somehow had found one of Zuko's lost headpieces; she had been turning it over in her hand with a similar expression. The princess must've been worried about her brother more than she was going to admit to Sokka. Or even to herself, knowing the siblings level of self-deception in regard to their emotions. 

After they finally managed to leave the kitchen, Sokka introduced the princess of the Fire Nation to the hygienic standards of her less wealthy citizens, which went about as well as he expected. At least, he was then freed from her unnerving presence for a while, but it wasn't the blessing he had been counting for, it left him alone with his own thoughts; in order to distract himself, he did what he always did. He spread his maps on the floor and began to plan tomorrow's route, considering different possibilities of their next stop, even though his mind was already set up. When moderately refreshed Azula demanded the plan for the following days, he was ready. 

"We're heading to Yu Dao, it's a little risky, but we'll get everything we need there." And maybe even more, he thought. "From there we're going by land to the Ban Bi Chu border crossing." He pointed with his finger on the most recent map of the UPRE. "The further we'll go into the interior, the less traceable we'll be. Our ultimate goal is Ba Sing Se, whatever the White Lotus is planning to help Zuko, I need to be a part of this. But I can take you to the North Pole, where you'll be relatively safe, of course if Iroh won't have better options for you." Sokka realized that something was wrong, the princess had let him speak without criticizing his plan for far too long. He raised his head from the maps and almost gasped. Azula was kneeling in front of him with her eyes widened in horror and face even paler than usual. 

"What is this?" she asked in a weak voice, pointing her trembling finger to the corner of his UPRE map. 

"That scribble?" He gestured towards the drawing of the fire symbol enclosed in a triangle. "It's a prime example of how your brother is vandalizing my property." 

"But what does that symbol mean?" she asked desperately, leaning towards him. 

He pulled away. "I don't know, I've told you that I'm not into a spiritual mumbo-jumbo." She was looking at him intensely. "Of course, you don't know about this either." Sokka sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Lately Zuko got obsessed with helping Aang and in every free moment he was going through some dusted scrolls. The symbol has something to do with his research, he was unconsciously drawing it everywhere, but I have no clue how it is supposed to help. Why are you interested so much?" 

"It's not your business!" she shouted. The wild expression on her face and the look in her eyes made Sokka question Zuko's confidence in her sanity. 

Azula hadn't said a word after her outburst and went straight to bed. She refused to use any of the blankets that Shima had brought them and instead wrapped herself tight in her palace cloak, as if she wanted to use that last piece of her former life to shield her from the new one. From his place on the pile of blankets, spread out on the squeaking floor, Sokka was only able to see the back of her head, sticking out from the cloak. He looked over at the ceiling, folded his hands over his stomach and listened to the light spring rain, drumming on the roof. 

This time he wasn't suppressing the tears running down his temples as the memories buried deep down in his mind rose to the surface. The peaceful sound of the rain got covered by the appalling crack of metal mixed with the desperate screams of the voices that were far too young and very unfitting for the scary Fire Nation army helmets. He hadn't had a choice then and it was Ozai, not him, who was directly responsible for all of that, even brainwashed Azula should've recognized it. If not for Sokka, Suki and Toph thousands of defenseless people could have died in flames. 

But did Nemi have a choice? If he had, did it mean that Nemi's life was a fair price for saving the Earth Kingdom? And where on the price list were the villagers and Sokka? 

***

They were sitting in Jasmine Dragon over cabbage soup and the mandatory jasmine tea, which Iroh had brought them for breakfast. Sokka was passionately defending the artistic merit of one of his drawings decorating the walls, when suddenly Fire Lord forgetter recalled that he had some morning meeting and immediately stood up. The Water tribesman tried his best to stop him, but he was silenced with a firm kiss; it was hard to argue with that. After Zuko drifted away to fulfill his daily firelordy duties, Sokka noticed the regal golden headpiece, sneakingly hiding behind their favorite teapot. The mighty Fire Lord would be helpless without his best adviser, he thought, grabbed the headpiece and rushed outside, but Zuko was already gone. The only people on the patio were two girls making out on the bench, obscured by the impressive water stream coming out of the fountain. Sokka got past the fountain and approached the girls, clearing his throat. In response Toph pulled away from Kuvira and turned her annoyed face towards him. 

"Sorry to interrupt you, but I have to know where Zuko was heading," he said, slightly embarrassed. 

"You really should watch your boyfriend better, comrade Snoozles. Down the stairs and to the right," she replied and returned to her previous activity. 

"Thanks, Toph!" he shouted, trying not to look. 

Sokka scurried in the direction indicated by Toph, but still couldn't find a trace of Zuko. 

"Hey buddy, have you seen Fire Lord Zuko passing by?" he asked a young Fire Nation soldier, whose face seemed familiar to him, although he couldn't remember where from. 

"Sure, our Fire Lord is over there," the soldier cheerfully pointed behind his back. 

Sokka turned around and in the distance he noticed Zuko, who was busy talking to admiral Zhao the younger. 

"Zuko!" he shouted, but neither of them reacted. Sokka sprinted towards them, but the faster he was running the further they were getting away. They got smaller and smaller until they disappeared; then the image in front of his eyes began to fade. 

Sokka groaned as he began to realize that it was a dream; he felt throbbing pain in his temples and his mouth was dry. He instinctively reached to his right, but Zuko wasn't there. The next thing he realized was that he was lying on a floor in a dim room. He rolled to his right side and noticed the back of Zuko's messy topknot on the bed above him. 

"How did I end up here, my love?" he mumbled, leaning on his elbow and rubbing his sore eyes. 

"Watch your words, peasant!" A sharp woman's voice startled him. Sokka winced as he recognized Azula, who in no time got into the upright position on her bed and hovered above him in a threatening pose. The streams of fire, arising from her clenched fists, were casting the blue light on her face, giving the princess a cadaverous look. 

"I was talking in my sleep," he rasped out, raising his hand in an apologetic gesture. 

Then he rose to a hunched sit and buried his face into his hands. Tui and La, he was with Azula under the roof of the woman whose son... He shivered as the reality fully sank in. The damned room was freezing cold – or did it only seem that way to him? Sokka embraced himself; he was missing the warmth of Zuko's body next to him to the point that it ached. Desperate to focus on the following days instead, he looked once more at Azula, who put her fire out and was watching him with an indecipherable expression. Despite the dim light, he was able to notice the deplorable condition of her usually perfect hairdo. 

"It'd be better if you didn't parade around Yu Dao in your trademark topknot, especially in its messy edition," he said. 

The princess began to pat her head with both her hands and frowned in disbelief. Then she violently pulled her tie, letting her hair fall down. Sokka was stunned when he saw how far the jet-black strands were reaching. 

"Whoa... That's a lot of..." problem, he wanted to say, but he preferred not to touch the subject of cutting her hair, remembering what Zuko had told him about her would-be coronation day. "...hair," he finally finished the sentence. 

"Ah, I see that, after all, you have something in common with Dum-Dum, you almost match his level of eloquence," she said in a hoarse voice. 

"What I meant, Azula, is that royal, waist long hair, blowing freely in the wind will attract a lot of attention and we can't afford it," he replied angrily. 

Something scary flashed in her eyes. "Give me scissors then," she demanded, much more awake than a moment ago. 

"What?" Sokka got a ridiculous impression that he shouldn't do that, because then she would go crazy again, throwing lightning right and left. "No, right now we don't have time for a makeover party. We'll take care about it later. For now a plain braid would be the safest option," he said and began to fold the blankets without looking at her. 

After a few minutes Sokka noticed that the princess was still struggling with the beginning of the braid, furiously pulling her hair. Of course, she didn't do her hair once in her life; he knew that there was only one solution to this problem. 

"Let me do this for you," he said, receiving yet another murderous glare. For a moment the princess was silently calculating her options, but apparently she came to the same conclusion as he did. 

"Fine," she muttered through clenched teeth. Then she sat sideways on her bed, straightening her back and taking such a regal posture that Sokka immediately felt like he was one of her unfortunate maids. 

The hair had to go, there was no doubt about it, the long, tough journey was awaiting them; they weren't taking any servants along and Sokka certainly wasn't going to act as one. He sat behind the princess and gathered her hair together in order to properly divide them into three sections. Suddenly, the soft and silky texture under his hands evoked feelings that he had just managed to shut out. 

"Your hair is just like Zuko's," he blurted out. 

"That is an extraordinary finding, taking into account that we are siblings," she said, returning to her usual flat tone. 

Sokka took a deep breath in and began to deftly plait a braid, driving away the heart-wrenching memories of the last time when he'd been running his hands through Zuko's hair. Instead, he recalled the sheer determination of his 10 years old self on a quest to learn how to braid Katara's hair, after their mother had been gone. He was glad that his sister couldn't see how he was applying that knowledge now. But hey, it wasn't that bad, after all, casually insulting him Azula was a much better option than batshit crazy, lightning throwing Azula, wasn't it? 

When they were ready to go, the princess put on her wrinkled cloak – with dignity quite disproportionate to its current state – and walked out the room, stepping over some bundle left in front of their door. Sokka bent over and picked the bundle up, unwinding slightly the rag in which it was wrapped. He immediately became struck with a scent of freshly baked buns, eggs and smoked fish that Shima had prepared them for their journey. With an odd mix of feelings stirring inside him, he clutched the bundle to his chest and followed Azula. 


	4. The Tales of Yu Dao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics are not mine.

For some reason Tui and La decided to show mercy on Agni's daughter – this time the clunky boat didn't need her help to propel. After an almost sleepless night, which had been given to her by Zuzu's stupid drawing, it was a welcome blessing. Azula shifted on the bench, turning her sore back at the wind, and closed her eyelids; partially because the harsh midday light was glaring straight into her eyes and partially because she wanted to fully focus. The steady, soporific sound of waves splashing against the boat wasn't helping her to process what she had just learned from Sokka. It was beyond comprehension, how an army of peasants could accomplish what her father couldn't and how they had been able to form a government and state structures. What's most surprising, somehow that pitiful loser, Long Feng, was on guard of the new order as a head of some reincarnation of Dai Li and judging by his current methods, the old fool had learned a thing or two since their last encounter. 

When she opened her eyes again, Sokka was sitting with an absent expression on the stern of the boat in his ridiculous Fire Nation army uniform. It was almost funny, not so long ago she'd thought that her life couldn't be more miserable. And here she was now: on the run, far from the peak of her physical and mental abilities, with the Water Tribe savage as her only... What? An ally? No, she wasn't stupid like little Zuzu, who had been trusting everyone and had it coming; Sokka was merely a tool, which turned out to be handy so far, but he needed to be carefully watched. The whole situation made her wonder if she really had left the asylum or was it some elaborated dream induced by the heavy drugs that they were forcing her. The latter seemed plausible, especially taking into account the damned fire symbol showing everywhere, but since the princess had learned to always take the worst-case scenario, she assumed that it was the reality. 

Soon, as if to support her conclusion, an awful smell of rotting fish hit her. They were entering what was supposed to be the port of Yu Dao, but she couldn't recognize it at all. The giant staircase consisting of two hundred marble steps, which only the most skilled palanquin bearers could properly tackle, were nowhere near. Neither was the magnificent monument of her grandfather placed in the middle of the large, stone-paved plaza at the end of the stairs. Not to mention the wide boulevard going from the monument towards the old town, surrounded by the tenements crafted by the finest Fire Nation architects. The harbor that they were inevitably approaching was reminding her rather of yesterday's village, only here there was much more of the trashy boats, wooden wretched houses and the garbage on the ground; even the rotten fish scent was an order of magnitude stronger. 

"For Agni's sake, where are we?" she asked, covering her nose with the cloak. 

"In a blind spot of the asshats calling themselves Yu Dao's police," Sokka replied, preparing to moor the boat. "Welcome to Hashu district." 

As soon as the princess set foot on the cluttered shore, a pack of small, dirty children, which had appeared out of nowhere, surrounded her like a bunch of ragged vultures. They began to tug on her tunic with their soiled hands, begging to give them something; to Azula's disgust one extremely persistent boy clung to her knee. She jerked her leg to shake him off, but he was holding tight. Suddenly, all at once, the little abominations released her and ran towards the boat. When she turned around she saw Sokka giving them the leftovers from their provisions. The vulture-children clutched onto their prize with their tiny dirty hands and immediately scurried away. Azula sighed; if this was how the Continent had greeted her, what was awaiting her next? 

She wasn't keen to find out, but for lack of better alternatives she followed the Water tribesman through the narrow road climbing upwards among low wooden houses. He was moving with a confident stride and without any hesitation regarding the direction, as if he had walked this path many times before. The houses began to look slightly better and the streets became more crowded and noisy – it looked like they entered the center of the district. Sokka stopped before a corner building with a balcony around the second floor; a "Pearl of the West", according to a large sign above the entrance. 

"We'll stay at the Pearl until our papers will be ready, which hopefully means until tomorrow," he explained and entered the building, followed by Azula. 

The modest hall was devoid of any windows and all the light was coming from the paper lanterns hanging here and there from the high ceiling. Low light wasn't a bad choice, considering the ugly decor, consisting of the kitschy landscape paintings placed on the walls and dusted ships figurines stocked at the counter. The only member of the staff was a young man with a bowl of noodle soup in his hands, who was unsuccessfully hiding behind the counter. His origins were impossible to guess, he had a skin complexion typical to the western Earth Kingdom, amber eyes and on top of that braids and bracelets characteristic to the Water Tribe. In response to the wind chimes sound, caused by their entrance, he quickly put away the bowl and wiped his mouth with his hand. 

"Hi Lee, long time no see!" the receptionist said gleefully. "Did you really have to to join the army to finally get a girlfriend?" he asked with a stupid grin on his face. 

_Lee_ waved his hand. "Have some pity on me, Kerla, I'm in pretty bad shape." 

The young man spread his bare arms wide. "Nobody said that the relationships were easy." Then he reached under the counter and pulled out a set of keys. "Fortunately, I can give you our most romantic suite, lovebirds," he said, shaking the keys. 

"Thank you, but we'll take a twin, one of the back ones. And I wouldn't risk insinuating that she's my girlfriend, buddy, unless you want to be burned alive while watching everything you love turning into the ashes." 

"Well, to each his own," the young man replied smugly, handing Sokka the other set of keys, but his expression faltered when his eyes met Azula's. 

They entered a dirty atrium with a well in the middle of it and climbed steep, creaky stairs. Their room was on the opposite site of the building from the main entry and its only window was looking onto the inner balcony. Azula hesitantly stepped inside, after Sokka opened the door; it was a sweatbox containing two worn beds, a small table sandwiched in between them and a carved wardrobe missing one wing. 

"I'm taking the one at the window," Sokka said and threw himself on the bed face first, causing a loud squeak. 

It didn't seem like a good idea; the bed looked as if at least several people had died in it. But since at that point the princess was too exhausted to care, she sat on the other bed, rested her back against the hole in the patterned wallpaper and yawned. 

Sokka turned his head towards her. "Don't make yourself too comfortable," he said, his voice partially muffled by the seedy mattress. "The sooner we'll get our pretty faces photographed the quicker we'll get the papers." Azula knitted her eyebrows and looked at him uncertainly. "Come on, surely Zuko told you what photography is." He slowly moved to an upright position with a glint in his tired blue eyes. "It's an amazing technology." 

"Of course he did, because my brother is such a technological genius," she replied with a wry smile, resting her head against the wall. 

"Oh boy, he really isn't," Sokka said fondly and a corner of his mouth quirked upward. For the first time he wasn't looking as if he was going to cry at the mention of Zuzu; that was some development. 

He began to explain to her the origins and the working principles of what was called photography, animatedly gesticulating. Azula was listening to him with interest, it was indeed an amazing technology, she had to admit it. But after a while her thoughts drifted away. How much of the important knowledge was she still missing? Her brother hadn't been exaggerating this time, the world truly had changed more than she could have imagined. Well, after all, five long years had passed since she had been locked up; it was more than a quarter of her pathetic life. Although the first two years of that period were a blur to her, the time had been flowing anyway... It seemed necessary to stick with Sokka a little bit longer than she initially had planned; he really was well-versed for a snow peasant, Dum-Dum was right for once. 

"...anyway, I suggest that we take a quick pee-pee break, go for some stuff that'll make us blend in slightly better than the Fire Nation army uniform and royal pajamas and then to the guy who'll make our papers," he said after finishing his lecture on the photography and flopped down on the bed. "The pot is at the back of the building. Wake me up if I fall asleep before you return." 

Azula wasn't willing to follow his suggestions, especially after yesterday's unhygienic experiences, but eventually her body left her no choice. 

"Agni, why have you abandoned me?" she muttered, opening the door to leave the room. 

"What?" Sokka raised his head from the pillow made from his cloak and looked at her with his eyes half open. "Sorry, but you're on your own in this department." 

***

Hashu's main market was located fifteen minutes walk from the Pearl of the West. The sun-baked streets near the hotel had been already crowded at that hour, but worse still, the crowdedness and the clamor were growing exponentially as they were getting closer to the market. Azula felt like she was trapped in a gigantic swarm of buzzing flies, every once in a while she was getting nudged by some arm or elbow emerging from the mass of the sweaty bodies and her nose was attacked by a mixture of scents consisting of the spices, incense and occasionally urine. Combined with a view of the garish hodge-podge of goods exposed on the stalls, the sensations were extremely annoying, she would even say that they were overwhelming, if not the fact that the Fire Nation princesses and war heroes couldn't be overwhelmed by some peasants markets. 

"We have to choose some stuff that wouldn't make us look better than an average UPRE citizen, which is unfortunately a pretty low bar," said Sokka, looking around. "But we can splurge on boots; they should be close to indestructible, some parts of the interior are literally a sea of mud at this part of the year." 

After purchasing a modest set of clothes, they headed to a secluded blind alley, passing by a bunch of goat dogs' corpses lying in the shadow of a building. In the alley, hidden behind the stocked boxes, they quickly changed their clothes; the princess put on the short drab tunic, tying it at the waist with the dark sash, and the loose pants in the similar drab color, or rather lack of color. The goat dogs turned out to be alive – they approached a heap made of their old clothes to sniff it, but quickly scurried away when the princess set the heap on fire. She immediately regretted doing it, her whole body was beginning to itch; the Kyoshi Warriors rags that she once had worn were like royal robes in comparison to her current outfit. The heavy, calf-high boots, despite being an order of magnitude more expensive than clothes, also left much to be desired. 

They crossed the market and reached its eastern outskirts; to get their papers, they had to descend to a basement of an abandoned building. Surprisingly, the basement housed some kind of a tavern. Its crowded interior was smoky and dim; Azula's eyes needed a little bit of time to adjust to the low light level. Suddenly, she got startled by a low, raspy voice. 

"Hey, Water Tribe scum!" The voice was coming from a portly middle-aged man sitting at the corner table. The top of his bald head was cut in half by a scar and his veiny arms were covered by a spiderweb of faded tattoos. The princess instinctively took a more rooted stance. "Wanna play a rematch?" he asked, raising his cup to take a sip of a murky brownish drink. 

"Next time, Rooster, we're in kind of a hurry," Sokka said, apologetically raising his hand. 

He pointed her to one of the free tables placed under the stained wall, while he himself moved to the counter, where he clasped his arm with a bartender in a characteristic Water Tribe manner. The two snow peasants were talking for a while in a voice too low for Azula to grasp the topic of their conversation. After the bartender had disappeared behind the kitchen door, Sokka returned with two bowls of noodle soup and two cups of something dull, that looked as appealing as the bald man's drink. The princess carefully sniffed her cup; it clearly contained alcohol. 

"Strong tea mixed with rum, it should get us back on our feet," Sokka explained. He drank almost all of his cup at once, winced and wiped his mouth with his hand. "All righty, I'll visit Maestro first," he said, jerking his head towards the kitchen door. "Try not to kill anybody while waiting for me, you can instead think of a nice new name, age and occupation." 

It was easier said than done, Azula couldn't properly focus surrounded by a buzz of conversations, all revolving around one subject: the repercussions of the coup. The tavern's ragtag rabble could be divided roughly into three parties: the first one was praising the coup and expecting the Fire Nation to rise from its knees; it consisted mainly of the young men, if not the teenagers, visibly of the Fire Nation origins. They were scolded by the members of the second group, mostly older ones, that were ridiculously preaching about how the young generation know nothing about the war and how they wouldn't last a minute in their days. It was however the third party – including bald Rooster – that baffled her the most; they saw the political turmoil as a chance for the colonies to become independent from _both_ the Fire Nation and the UPRE. Despite the vigorous debate, filled with a lot of cursing and shouting, everyone there seemed to have agreed about one thing: the war between the Fire Nation and the UPRE was inevitable. 

The knee-rising party was about to talk the separatists out of stupid ideas with the use of their fists, when they got distracted by an entrance of a peculiar figure. Part of the tavern's crowd didn't pay attention to the bearded man in a worn black tunic and a patched hat, holding a violin in his hand, but the other part began to keep their voices down. The newcomer positioned himself next to the door, rested the violin on his collarbone and began to sing. 

_Without home I found myself one day  
The misery had driven me away  
When I was even not thirteen yet  
On my own, far from mama's eyes  
Ragged and dirty, streets got me wise  
And I had become a fine, nice lad _

His singing reminded Azula of the lamentations performed by the Sages at the mourning ceremonies held at the High Temple. He was barely touching the violin and she began to wonder why he had bothered to carry it around. But suddenly, he began to walk and play the instrument vigorously. 

_I am Avrad, the best thief out there  
A great artist, my work's sure and fair  
First one I'll remember till I'm dead  
Thrown in prison for a loaf of bread  
I ain't go to markets like simple ones  
I only rob the filthy, rich magnates  
It's a pleasure to phutz such magnate  
'Cause I am Avrad, a fine, nice lad _

The music abruptly stopped, as well as the performer, who this time decided to stand right next to Azula's table, ignoring her glower. 

_All alone, I had not enough to live  
Begged for bread and only poors would give  
Not fine and rich that always had enough  
These used to chase me away with scorn  
My folks, this is how a thief is born  
A thief I am, but a fine, nice lad _

He began to walk the tavern again, speeding up the pace of the violin melody to the point when it became furious. 

_I am Avrad, the best thief out there  
A great artist, my work's sure and fair  
As a little boy I was locked in jail  
A wizard came outside, a rare talent  
I ain't go to markets like simple ones  
I only rob the filthy, rich magnates  
I don't touch decent people, our kind  
'Cause I am Avrad, a fine, nice lad _

This part was followed by a longer, dramatic pause, after which the pace of the melody became funerary. 

_But hear me folks, this game can not last  
Beaten, sick from prison life I'll pass  
I've only one request, nothing bold  
After they'll bury me on a grim day  
It's what should be written on my grave  
With the largest letters made of gold: _

_Here lies Avrad, the best of the thieves  
Such a great man he was, by all means  
With a good heart and a lot of feels  
A man as pure as the spirits wills  
If only he was raised by his mom  
If streets didn't make him what he'd become  
If as a child he still had a dad  
Here lies Avrad, a fine, nice lad. _

After one last full-arm swing of the bow, he took the violin off his shoulder and began to slowly walk between the tables with his hat turned upside-down in his hand. The patched hat had already filled with a considerable amount of the copper coins, when its strange owner approached the princess. He tilted his head and looked at her for a long moment with his piercing dark eyes. 

"You're kakhol esh..." he finally said. 

"Excuse me?" Azula asked, frowning. 

Instead of answering, he smiled mysteriously, nodded and walked away. When Sokka returned to their table, the violinist was going towards the door. 

"Is he leaving already? Man, you were lucky to be up here," the Water Tribesman said with disappointment. 

The princess gave him a stink eye. "Well, I was born lucky." Sokka winced and Azula glanced toward the entrance; the singer was already gone. "Do you know the phrase 'kakhol esh'?" she asked. 

"Never heard it," Sokka shook his head and pointed to the kitchen door. "Go, Maestro is waiting for you." 

***

After her session with "Maestro", which felt like a parody of her posing sessions with the court painter, they decided to do the rest of their shopping as they had to cross the market anyway. Azula almost immediately regretted that choice; Sokka, who just minutes ago had been dead on his feet, was now briskly walking from a stall to a stall, infinitely picking up and putting down unnecessary items, and bargaining as if his life depended on it, while the merchants were taking the opportunity to tell the stories of their lives. Suddenly, halfway to another stall filled with some colorful garbage, the Water tribesman stopped, picked up a scrap of paper from the ground and stared at it vacantly. The princess looked over his shoulder; it was a slightly trampled, but still vibrant flier advertising 'Love amongst the Dragons' in Yu Dao's Grand Theater. 

"You must be kidding me," Azula said, reaching for the flier. 

Sokka evaded her hand and clutched the scrap of paper to his chest. "Don't even start," he muttered. 

The princess was seriously tempted to start, but at the same time she noticed a long stall filled with scrolls and books, wedged into the blind side alley. She moved towards the stall with a view to expand her collection of literature on the art of war. It was only after she got there, when she realized that her library had ceased to exist, buried under the ruins of the mansion together with her priceless antique weapons, decent wardrobe, and incompetent servants. This was a real tragedy as it had been the most comprehensive collection of war literature in the entire Fire Nation. Azula began browsing through the books on the stall anyway, much to her disappointment: 'The Lady and the Peasant' or 'The Magical Journey' were definitely not the titles she was looking for. 

She moved further into the alley and almost stepped back when her sight fell on her father's face, who was looking back at her from a poorly painted portrait, with eyes full of contempt. The look was justified to some extent, since she indeed was a failure, but was he any better with his bending taken away by a mere child? There were more portraits of her father on the stall, followed by the portraits of her brother; most of them were similar to that caricature of Zuko, which the village woman had hanging in her kitchen, but one of the paintings caused her blood to boil. 

"This is a blasphemy, you fool," she said, pointing to the drawing on which her brother was portrayed bare-chested in a very suggestive pose. 

"It's not a blasphemy, miss," replied the gray-haired scrawny man standing behind the stall. "This portrait depicts the vitality and potency of our young Fire Lord," he explained with a sleazy smile. "And it's very popular among the girls your age," he added and winked. 

Sokka immediately came to the stall; the Water Tribesman freezed when he saw the painting that she was pointing at. 

"Are you interested too, young man?" the merchant asked him and turned to Azula. "You see, this piece of art became popular also among the boys after Fire Lord Zuko had revoked certain laws," he said and winked again. "But if you're not satisfied with this one I can find you something more revealing..." The old man began to flip through the paintings hidden behind the counter; Azula clenched her fists. 

"Enough," said Sokka, suddenly shaken out of his stupor. He turned around and waved at Azula. "Come on, it isn't worth it." The princess looked at the pathetic merchant and reluctantly followed her companion. 

"Sure, you can go and buy it cheaper somewhere else," the merchant shouted after them. "But no one has them as anatomically correct as I do." 

They both stopped in their tracks and exchanged looks. Then they turned back and moved towards the merchant. Azula pushed the mewling old man aside, knocking him down on the ground. Sokka threw all the paintings from behind the counter to the alley, drew his sword and took a big swing. The filthy painting on top of the pile ended up cut in a half, but this way he would have to work for the rest of the day to destroy all of them. Azula approached the pile, ignoring the whining merchant sitting on the ground, crossed her forearms in front of her, clenched her fists to focus chi and rapidly swung her fists down, igniting the paintings. She couldn't help but smile. 

"Shit," Sokka said, glancing at the merchant. The old man, who suddenly became quiet, was looking at the princess with his eye wide open, covering his mouth with his hand. "We gotta go, now!" 

Azula made a step towards the merchant and began to make circular motions with her hands. 

"Stop!" Sokka shouted, grabbing her right hand and pointed to the crowd of gaping onlookers on the other side of the alley. _Damned peasants._ Sokka approached the merchant, who was trying to crawl back until he hit the wall, and put the sword to his throat. "If you tell anyone what you just saw, we'll find you and then you'll regret that you weren't in the place of those fucking paintings, am I clear?" he asked, pointing to the burning pile. The old man nodded ferociously and Sokka sheathed his sword. "Let's go!" 

They quickly passed by the crowd and immediately turned into another side alley and then another and another. After taking multiple turns and an infinite number of looks backward, Sokka turned his tense face to Azula. 

"Have you completely lost your mind?" he asked in a high pitched voice. "Showing off your blue fire in public is a death sentence for us!" 

"What was I supposed to use? My bare hands and teeth?" she asked, panting. Despite not being followed, they were still holding the insane pace as they were venturing into a maze of dirty streets. 

"Why not? I bet your claws are sharper then my sword," he blurted out, but then he thought for a moment, slowing down his pace. "You're right, though, you could use a weapon," he said, holding a finger on his cheek. "I guess a little trip to the greatest armory of Yu Dao won't kill us, we're stuck here until tomorrow anyway." 

The greatest armory of Yu Dao turned out to be a rathole, crammed in between the butchery with questionably looking meat hanging on the hooks above the counter and the bakery with even more questionably looking baking goods in the display window. Azula was however pleasantly surprised when she entered the store; it wasn't by any means spacious or luxurious, but its numerous nooks and crannies were filled with the most diverse collection of weapons that she had ever seen. From kanabos and nunchakus through kukris and ninjatos to axes and spears used by the Water Tribe savages; only the Air Nomads weapons were missing, but it was understandable one hundred years after their disastrous defeat. Sokka's enthusiasm rubbed off on her when she was picking up weapons, some of them for the first time in her life. Finally, she decided to go with her usual weapon of choice and went looking for the Water tribesman. She found him behind the rack with cavalry items; for some reason he was trying on the upper part of ostrich horse armor. 

"I'll take them," she said. 

Sokka took off the ostrich horse mask and looked at her with an indecipherable expression. "Are you sure?" 

"Well, they're far from being properly balanced," she replied, weighing the dao swords in her hands. "But what choice do I have?" 

He clumsily put the armor back on the shelf, almost collapsing the whole rack, and took the swords from her. "Right, there's no time to pay a visit to our master and forge them by ourselves." 

"Our master?" she asked, deeply confused, but he already moved towards the counter. 

***

The princess woke up well before the first rays of Agni fell on the earth, as she always did these days. Fortunately, yesterday (today?) she had gone to sleep early and as a result she got the first semi-decent rest in Spirits know how many days. For a long while she was lying on her back, studying the asymmetric stains running through the porous ceiling, interestingly illuminated by the orange courtyard light. Suddenly, she realized that Sokka was awake too. He got up and began to dress in a barely audible manner; the Water tribesman was clearly going to sneak out. 

_So soon?_ She knew that it was only a matter of time before the peasant would take an opportunity to make a profit of her, but she had expected it to happen later. Azula wasn't even angry, maybe slightly disappointed that her instinct had failed her, but most of all she felt the pervasive reluctance to leave the bed. 

When Sokka silently closed the door behind him, she groaned, put on her new boots and grabbed the dao swords. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics are not mine, it's my translation/adaptation of "Avreml der Marvikher" (Avreml the Pickpocket), a song by Mordechai Gebirtig, Yiddish folk poet and songwriter.


	5. The Remnants of the Past

Hashu district never slept; its shady streets were a stage of an endless parade of shady figures. Some of the figures were stopping to swarm around noisy food vendors stalls, which were filling the cool night air with the smell of fried oil. Some others were approaching bored women and men of easy virtue, occupying poorly lit side alleys. A few of the sketchy-looking characters came up with the lousy idea of bothering Azula, but the moment they were getting close enough to notice the dao swords on her back, they were giving up. As nothing was slowing her down – except for the extremely uncomfortable boots – she could follow the treacherous Water tribesman at a safe distance. It wasn't the most pleasant night walk, but she had to find out who he worked for. 

After a while the drunken yells became distant as they entered a quieter and slightly better looking area, built up mostly with brick houses; thank Agni, the smelly decay that was surrounding her slowly began morphing into Yu Dao from her memories. Her suspicions that Sokka was heading towards the old town were confirmed when they reached Seaside Boulevard. At the end of the boulevard the Water tribesman took a sharp right turn, not even looking at her favorite monument: the glorious cannon, which more than a hundred years ago fired the first shot towards the Earth Kingdom. He passed the exquisite fountain on the surprisingly crowded Theater Plaza and turned into one of the side streets. There, he stopped in front of some building, looked around and went inside. 

Azula came around the corner and approached the building, which turned out to be an inconspicuous tenement with a large carved door. She quietly walked into the dark staircase and began to follow Sokka through the spiral stairs. He was already on the second floor and it didn't look like he was about to stop before any of the high doors. Much to her surprise, he went to the attic, where he opened the roof hatch and pulled himself up. With whom he could possibly be meeting on the rooftop? Azula approached the open hatch and listened for a while, but she could only hear sporadic yells and laughs from the street below, so she pulled herself up a little to get a glimpse. Sokka was alone, he was lying on the edge of the flat rooftop on his stomach, facing a garish building across the street. The princess silently climbed through the hatch and stood up feeling a light breeze whipping across her face. For a moment she was astonished by a mosaic of brightly lit streets stretching out under the starry sky, but Azula wasn't there to admire the view. 

"Well, well, what a charming spot for a rendez-vous," she said calmly, casually resting her hand on her hip. 

Sokka was startled. "Azula? What are you doing here?" He turned his head to her, leaning on the elbow of his right hand; in his left he was holding the binoculars. At least it turned out that not all of his yesterday's purchases were totally mindless. 

"I'm not on your guest list? You're hurting my feelings," she said, putting her hand on her chest. 

"For Spirits sake, what are you talking about?" he asked, knitting his eyebrows as if he was genuinely confused. 

"Don't play stupid, I'm not poor, naive Zuzu." She made a step forward and put both of her hands on her hips. "Tell me who is paying you, you treacherous peasant, and maybe I'll be merciful." 

Sokka blinked several times. "You think that everything I did was just to sell you out?" Then he snorted. "Please, there is no amount of money in the world worth putting up with you." 

"Isn't it?" she asked, making another step forward; now she could see a part of the street below them. "Then why are you exposing yourself to such suffering?" 

His face became serious. "I've told you, I made a promise to your brother, and I'll do everything to keep my promises to him." Suddenly, a creak of a door followed by a low guffaw issued from the street. Sokka glanced down. "Now, can you please get down? Or we may lose our only chance to learn anything about Zuko." 

Could it be true? His expression was earnest and almost entreating, he couldn't be such a good liar, so Azula crouched, utterly confused. 

"If this isn't a pathetic attempt to betray me, then why did you sneak out?" 

"I wasn't sure how you would act knowing that they're here," he said, avoiding her gaze. 

"Who is here?" 

Sokka sighed and patted the rooftop on his left. "Come here and I'll show you." 

She reluctantly crawled to the edge of the rooftop and looked at the three-storey building across the street. It had a richly ornamented facade, painted in bold, extravagant emerald, which was standing in contrast with the red paper lanterns, hanging everywhere that it was possible. 

"Look at one of the second floor windows," he said, handing her the binoculars. 

Azula adjusted the binoculars and nearly gasped when an emerald-red-gold blur turned into a tapestried chamber full of the Fire Nation army officers. The oldest in rank, general Umise, was nonchalantly stretched on a fur-covered bench, holding a long carved pipe over an oil lamp and inhaling the smoke; he was accompanied by a stunningly beautiful woman. Some of the members of his entourage were also lying on the benches with carved pipes and oil lamps, others were dancing with scantily dressed women and the rest was playing cards over a low wooden table, full of half-empty glasses. 

"What is this place and how did you know that this rat would be there?" Azula asked, looking suspiciously at Sokka. 

He waved his hand at the building. "It's famous – or infamous, depending on who you ask – Madame Faalah's House of a Thousand Pleasures. I didn't know for sure, but I had a strong gut feeling that he would come here to celebrate. He's her frequent guest, and not only him; there's no place in the mainland that compares to this one." 

"I have to take your word for it, I'm not as familiar with brothels as you are," she said with a sneer and handed him the binoculars back. "And what's your plan, except for voyeurism?" 

"Push you off the roof and peacefully wait for my friend to leave the building," he said, looking at the window and adjusting the binoculars. 

It turned out that the Water tribesman was a friend with one of the women which were entertaining the officers. Azula wasn't keen to talk to her, she would've rather had a little chat with the general himself, but Sokka made a good point that it was better to leave that blurting idiot alive and unaware of their presence, as a future source of information. They began to take turns observing the chamber, but nothing was really happening. The princess concluded that parties were overrated; she didn't have to regret not attending any of the parties that her peers had been throwing. Agni, even the pink morning sky with its changing colors was far more interesting to watch than this pathetic gathering. Suddenly, Sokka nudged her in the arm. 

"Wake up," he said, interrupting her contemplation of the sky. "The party's over, she can leave any minute now." 

Azula stretched her numb arms and lowered herself into the hatch, followed by Sokka. They ran down the stairs, rounded the emerald building and hid in the side alley, near the back entrance. It didn't take long for Sokka's friend to leave; she turned out to be the woman in a tailored sleeveless dress and shimmer earrings, who was keeping Umise company most of the time. The clear dawn light revealed that her dress was made of a fine silk with great attention paid to detail; its frog fasteners were very skillfully crafted into flowers. The citrine of the muslin scarf wrapped around her arms harmonized perfectly with the celadon of the dress and the floral paper fan in her hand. Azula moved in her direction, but Sokka blocked her way with an outstretched arm. 

"We can't approach her yet, we have to be sure that no one else is following us," he said, looking around. 

And so they cautiously followed the woman in the celadon dress, venturing into the streets of the waking up city. She was heading in the opposite direction than the one that Azula and Sokka had come from, but soon their surroundings began to resemble the miserable Hashu district. It was like the old town of Yu Dao was a small healthy cell, overgrown on almost all sides by a tumor of stinking decay. The woman in the celadon dress looked out of place there; she held her head high and walked with an unusual dignity and grace, even when she was slaloming around produce vendors sitting on the littered street. 

"Who is this woman?" the princess asked, bypassing a rotten watermelon. 

"One of my best informers in Yu Dao, countess Fenan Yungxin," Sokka replied and kicked the watermelon to the side. 

"How come this prostitute is a countess?" She couldn't believe it. 

"I've told you, she's an escort, not a prostitute." They suddenly stopped, because the countess decided to purchase some apples from one of the vendors. "She's also the former Earth Kingdom's aristocracy. Her husband was killed during the uprising, but she managed to flee together with her daughter, sister-in-law and parents-in-law." 

"And then she decided to become _an escort_?" Azula asked, raising her eyebrows, when they started to walk again. 

Sokka shook his head and waved his hand at the street. "You really don't know how the life of ordinary people looks like here, do you? It's not like there's plenty of jobs for non-bending women from the former Earth Kingdom. This was the only way to support her family, after their money and valuables went up." 

Finally, the countess turned into a blind alley, which apparently was also serving as a courtyard for the surrounding houses. The front part of the alley was obstructed by the wooden carts, in the end there was a large dining table and all of this was overlooked by a laundry drying on clotheslines stretched between the buildings. The countess stopped in front of the shabby doors and took the keys out of her purse. 

"I thought those assholes would never pass out," said Sokka, coming around the carts and approaching her. Azula followed him. 

The countess flinched and almost dropped her keys. "Good Spirits, one day you will give me a heart attack, dear Lee," she said, gracefully turning to them. 

"Sorry, we didn't mean to," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. The countess looked over at Azula with her cat-like green eyes. From a close distance her delicate features, characteristic of the nobles, were clearly visible, as well as the early age wrinkles forming on her symmetrical face. Sokka gestured towards the princess. "It's my..." 

"I'm Suki," Azula said and noticed how Sokka's jaw tensed. It was a perfect choice. Why couldn't she recall that name yesterday at the tavern? 

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Suki," the countess said and curtsied politely; she didn't seem familiar with the name. "I presume that you know who I am." 

Azula nodded. "I do, countess." 

"You don't have to use the title, it doesn't mean much here," she said bitterly, opening the door. "Please, come in." 

They entered a dim hallway filled with the smell of old furniture; the scarce light coming from the double glass doors on the other side of the hallway was partially blocked by the staircase. Azula noticed with disgust a bed placed under the staircase with an old man sleeping in it. The minute the countess closed the heavy door behind her, they heard rapid footsteps on the stairs; the old man groaned and turned his back on them. 

"Mommy, you're back!" squeaked a little girl, running toward the countess and the smile lit the woman's sad face. When the girl spotted Sokka, she immediately changed her direction, almost bumping into him. "Lee!" 

"Hello princess." The Water tribesman grinned at her and ruffled her hair. "How are you today?" he asked. 

"I'm not a princess, I'm a countess," she said with a serious expression, straightening her hair. 

Sokka put his hand on his chest and bowed deeply. "Please forgive the ignorant peasant, countess." 

The little girl giggled. "I forgive you. Now come, I have to show you my latest drawings!" she said, grabbing his hand. 

Sokka hesitantly followed her upstairs and the countess opened the double doors leading to the kitchen. Azula was invited to sit at the rectangular table, covered with a tablecloth, which had been probably once white. The host put a plate of biscuits in the middle of the table and approached the stove to prepare the tea. The furniture in the kitchen was as decrepit as the rest of the house and the appliances surely remembered the days of Sozin's reign, but one thing caught Azula's attention: blue-and-white tea set with handles shaped as tiger lions, placed on a highest shelf of a glazed cupboard. The princess recognized the fine Nuying porcelain; it must've been the last remnant of those people's previous life, but on the background of the seedy kitchen it was more like a mockery on the one that they were currently living. Why did they even want to look at it? Suddenly, Zuko's headpiece, which Azula had found on Sokka's boat and which she was still carrying in her pocket, began to pinch her. 

"There you are," said a middle-aged gray-haired woman in a faded dress, who suddenly entered the kitchen. "And of course you had told us in advance that we would have guests, how considerate of you." The woman sat in front of Azula and scooted the plate of biscuits closer to herself. 

"Thank you for the kind welcome, Sha Gan," said the countess. She put down the fire and turned to them. "Our guest, Suki, is..." She looked at Azula and narrowed her eyes. "You must be Lee's secret fiance, aren't you?" 

"Finally, mystery solved!" Sha Gan said and shoved a biscuit into her mouth. 

Azula frowned. "I wasn't aware that you are so familiar with Lee." 

"He's quite a good friend of mine," said the countess, putting a clay teapot on the table. 

"He's our benefactor. If not for that boy's help, this wretched house would fall apart," said Sha Gan and reached for another biscuit. "Of course his help wouldn't be necessary if certain someone was earning more money." 

"Or, if certain someone else found herself a job," said the countess, scooting the plate towards Azula. She poured the tea into four cups and sat at the table to Azula's right. "Nevertheless, you don't have to be jealous of us, darling, Lee is madly in love with you." 

"Is he?" Azula asked, lifting her cup to take a sip. Surprisingly, the tea was decent. 

The countess rested her hands on the table and leaned towards Azula; she still had a wedding ring on her finger. "On one hand he is very secretive about you, to the point that we didn't even knew your name until now, but on the other hand, he can't help himself and every now and then he interjects things like 'my fiance would say that' or 'my fiance would hate that'." She smiled and the corners of her eyes wrinkled. "It's adorable." 

Sha Gan also leaned across the table, holding a cup in one hand and a coaster in the other. "You should've seen him when he got this idea of taking you to 'Love Amongst the Dragons' for your anniversary; he was excited like a polar bear dog puppy." She looked at the countess and they both laughed. "By the way, as a great admirer of the play, how do you find Grand Theater's rendition of it?" 

There was a surge of a strange feeling in the princess's chest, but she didn't have a chance to dwell on it, or even to reply; they heard heavy footsteps on the creaky stairs and soon Sokka showed up at the threshold of the kitchen. 

"Oh Lee, why do you have to be so mysterious?" the countess said with a small smile and gestured towards Azula. "If we knew who was going to pay us a visit, we could prepare better." 

Sokka opened and closed his mouth several times; the stupid Water Tribesman was going to blew up her cover – Azula had to act. 

***

The Water Tribesman couldn't believe his ears. What was Azula thinking? By revealing her identity, she put in danger not only the two of them, but also the whole Yungxin family. Meanwhile, the princess stood up from the table. She approached him from his right with a weird, scary smile, slipped her hand under his arm and awkwardly leaned against him. Sokka stiffened with terror. 

"Sometimes you can be so inconsiderate..." she said and her smile became even weirder. "...my love." 

_Oh._ So that's what this was about. He exhaled and relaxed a little bit, but it was hard for him to fully recover; Azula's creepy attempt at affection would surely become another fuel for his nightmares. At least the ongoing debate on the existence of a human being that could behave more awkwardly than Zuko seemed finally settled. 

"And yet you're still crazy about me, babe," he said and looked her in the eyes. Suddenly, her hand wrapped around his arm became burning hot. He hissed quietly, sliding the arm from her embrace and turned to the amused women. "You know that I love to chat with you, my ladies, but unfortunately Suki and I are in a bit of a hurry. I'm afraid that we have to get straight to the business." 

The countess took them upstairs to her room, where Tona was still sitting at the old desk piled with papers and crayons, passionately working on another set of drawings. Sokka and Azula sat at the small table, crammed in the corner next to the desk while Fenan sat on one of the beds placed under a slanted wall. She asked Tona to go downstairs and help her aunt with the breakfast, much to the little girl's discontent. The Water tribesman took a look at the framed photographs sitting on the desk, illuminated by a beam of light coming from the attic window. On the central one Fenan and her husband were sitting in the blossoming garden of their manor with little Tona between them and a polar bear dog puppy at their feet; all family members had broad smiles on their faces. This was probably how his and Zuko's portrait would look like if, in some alternate universe, they were photographed at the turtle duck pond in the Palace garden. 

"Did Umise say anything about Fire Lord Zuko?" he asked in a slightly trembling voice, when Tona left the room. 

"Very little, he was mostly boasting and talking about a grand celebratory party at the Palace, which they are planning to throw. He wants me and several other girls to come, regardless of price," Fenan said and sighed. "The only thing that he said about the Fire Lord was, I quote, 'maybe we will even let that wuss Fire Lord to have some fun, if he will behave himself well'." 

"Great!" Sokka exclaimed, slapping the table with his hand; the tea cups loudly rattled. Both women looked at him surprised. "Um... I mean, I'm sorry that you have to deal with those assholes. But I have some idea, could you arrange that you'll be the one keeping Fire Lord Zuko company?" 

"I suppose I can try..." the countess said hesitantly. 

"You have nothing to worry about from him." Sokka said. 

"Completely nothing," Azula chimed in with a smirk. "You see, despite his young age, poor thing has some serious performance issues, if you know what I mean." 

Sokka glowered at her and turned to Fenan. "Above all, Fire Lord Zuko is a good, kind person, probably the only one in the Palace now." The countess nodded. "If it all works out could you convey him a message?" 

"Of course, what message?" 

"Please, tell him that..." He had to find a safe way to put it. "Tell him that swordbender and jerkbender are following the plan and that they both miss Sparky like crazy." 

***

The Water tribesman fastened the straps of the last bag that he had packed, the one with the tents and sleeping bags, and decided that he would be the one carrying it. Then he checked the wardrobe and under the beds for any forgotten items. Twice. Double check before leaving was the first rule of a good traveler. But after his thorough check the only missing thing was a certain Fire Nation princess, who had gone to the _powder room_ a while ago, so he sat on his bed waiting for her. Soon, the door opened with a creak and Azula stepped in, looking malevolently at the bags. 

Sokka gestured towards the bags placed on her bed. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to carry them until we pick up the horses." 

"What an excellent idea, even Li and Lo wouldn't recognize me dressed as an ostrich horse." she said and approached the bed. "And why use ostrich horses? Komodo rhinos are twice as fast." 

"Yeah and every peasant in the UPRE owns a komodo rhino, it wouldn't be suspicious at all," Sokka said, waving his hand. "Do you even know the concept of blending in, Azula?" 

"No, I conquered Ba Sing Se by pure accident," she snapped and bent down to get the bags. Her long, messy braid almost touched the floor. 

_Her hair_. "Wait," he said. "You know, um..." 

"What now?" She straightened and put her hands on her hips; the braid was flowing down her chest. "Come on, _swordbender_ , spill it." 

"You need to get rid of something before we go," he said, staring at the floor. 

"I already got rid of decent clothes, personal hygiene and human dignity. What else could I possibly get rid of?" she asked, spreading her arms. 

Sokka looked over at her braid. Azula freezed for a moment when she realized what he meant. But then she tossed the braid to her back, grabbed it with a left hand at shoulder height and drew one of the dao swords. Her face was tense and her hand was trembling slightly, but when she noticed that Sokka was still looking at her, she made a quick cut with the sword and threw the braid on the bed. 

Azula's hair was now jaw-length. She tried to tug her hair behind ears to prevent it from falling on her face, with little success, so she pulled the upper part of it in a small ponytail in a manner similar to Suki. Was she doing it on purpose? Sokka finally summoned his courage and took Azula's freshly made passport out of his pocket; he was really hoping that she hadn't decide to go as Suki. When he looked at the name that she had chosen, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

"I see that you liked the song about the poor boy too, Avra," he said. 

Azula furrowed her eyebrows. "I hated it, but I couldn't collect my thoughts in that clamorous grease pit." 

"If so, I'm glad that your fake occupation is not a thief." 

"Give me that!" Azula said and yanked her passport out of his hand. 

"On second thought, maybe it should be," he said laughing. 

Azula's grumpy mood improved only after they picked up the horses. The journey on the ostrich horse back was indeed much more comfortable than on foot, but for Sokka it was too early to relax – they had to pass Yu Dao's old town to feel relatively safe. The Water tribesman had nothing against the old town, he liked its cobbled streets, wide sidewalks shaded by linden trees and massive tenement houses decorated with bas reliefs; normally he would enjoy the ride. But today, despite the clear sky and the peaceful chirp of the blue jays, his every muscle was tense. It got even worse, when they turned into the Peace Boulevard and passed the lion turtle sculpture; he noticed komodo rhinos tied in front of an inn and cursed under his breath. 

"Oh look, komodo rhinos, how susp..." Azula faltered when a bunch of Fire Nation soldiers emerged from the inn. She gave him a questioning look. 

The soldiers spotted them, it was too late to go back. He gestured forward with his head, trying to look as casual as possible and slow down his racing heart. They quietly passed by the soldiers and almost got to another block, when they heard a yell behind them. 

"Hey, you two on the ostrich horses, stop!" 

The Water tribesman turned his head around; a bulky soldier with a helmet on his head looked up from some piece of paper, glanced at them and then again on the piece of paper. _Oh no._

"Giddap!" Sokka shouted and squeezed his ostrich horse with his calves. "To the right!" 

Their ostrich horses' claws scraped loudly against the cobblestone as they sprang into a gallop. The rapid movement scared cat owls, which had been cleaning their feathers on the sidewalk; they flapped their wings and flew into the air, screeching loudly. A few passerbys stopped, waiting for the show. In the corner of his eye, Sokka saw that the soldiers rushed to untie their komodo rhinos. 

"They'll reach us in no time!" Azula shouted, looking behind her back. 

"To the left! I have an idea!" 

But there was no time to explain, he had to quickly figure out the shortest route to the group of tenements connected by courtyards. He was shouting the directions and they were turning into a block after a block, only slightly slowing down the speed at the turns. Ostrich horses could be slower than komodo rhinos, but they were incredibly agile. When they finally got near the gate that he had been looking for, he glanced back once more; he couldn't see the soldiers, but he heard the sound of approaching hooves. 

"Do you trust me?" he asked, turning to Azula. 

"No!" 

"Too bad." Sokka approached her ostrich horse as close as he could in full gallop, grabbed its reins with one hand and turned both of their horses to the gate. They entered a dark tunnel leading to the closed courtyard of the tenement. 

"What are you doing?" Azula shouted. 

"It's the only way to lose them." 

"But it's a dead end!" 

"It's not," he said and pointed at the gate on the other side of the courtyard, partially occluded by the well. 

They passed the second tunnel and in the next courtyard they took a sharp right turn to enter another gate, raising a cloud of dust. Sokka looked behind his back, this time he couldn't neither see nor hear komodo rhinos. Suddenly, something fell on his head and he couldn't see anything. He rapidly pulled on the material wrapped around his head and looked at it. It was someone's freshly washed slip, which he must've caught riding under the clothesline. Azula snickered. 

"Very funny," he said and threw the unfortunate slip towards Azula, but it had no chance of reaching her and landed on the ground. 

When they left the last courtyard he was sure that they had lost the chase. They escaped for now, but it looked like Zhao knew that they were in Yu Dao. It was bad. It was really bad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The countess character was inspired by my vague memories of Merchant-Ivory film, "The White Countess".


	6. The Crossing

Sokka wiped the sweat from his brow and squinted upwards; he was about to reach the highest point of their route, the ruthless Zhulu pass. The southern trail, too steep and rocky to climb on an ostrich horse back, took its toll on them – they had to slowly lead the horses in the beating down sun. Azula surely had a strong opinion about that way of traveling, but fortunately, she was still little behind him. The Water tribesman took a deep breath of thin air and steadily, step by step, climbed to a rocky plateau dappled with snow patches, welcomed by a strong blow of chilly wind. The view of majestic white peaks overlooking a green valley filled his mind with peace, but it was a short-lived feeling, obliterated by the panting and heavy footsteps approaching him from behind. 

"What, by Agni, is happening down there?" Azula gasped out; her slightly tanned face was red from exertion. She was staring at the Ban Bi Chu Valley, stretching at the feet of the mountains. The winding road was full of people, carts and maximally laden ostrich horses, from above looking like colorful toys scattered by a messy child, or rather by a sizable army of children. 

Sokka shrugged. "Business as usual, so called profiteers are transporting the commodities unavailable in the UPRE from the colonies. They will sell them at home for at least double the price." He waved his hand towards the end of the valley. "We're about to enter the UPRE, also known as the United People's Republic of Lines, so get used to waiting." 

Azula made a pensive expression and got on her ostrich horse. The discontented animal began to descend the trail, taking its steps carefully to avoid the leftover snow. "Why Dum-Dum didn't give all of the colonies to the Earth peasants in his stupid generosity?" she asked after a while. 

"Well, that was a real stumper," he said, catching up with her. As they were descending, the trail became wider and small pine trees began to appear here and there. "After a lot of consideration Zuko didn't _give back_ only the oldest colonies, full of Fire Nation folks living there for generations and mixed families." 

"In any case Zuzu should've kept those pathetic leftovers of colonies in order, the peasants in Yu Dao are getting stupid ideas." 

"Are you talking about the separatists?" Sokka scratched the side of his head, where his hair was beginning to grow. "Actually, Zuko was seriously considering the idea of giving the colonies the autonomy." 

"For Agni's sake!" Azula abruptly pulled the reins back, stopping her surprised ostrich horse, which turned its white-maned head back and looked at her with a mute reproach. 

"Whoa, calm down," the Water tribesman said, raising his hand. "This became out of question after the Earth Kingdom's fall. Now the autonomy of the colonies wouldn't last a week, quickly there would be some totally-not-inspired-by-Kuvira worker's uprising in Yu Dao and it would end up incorporated into the UPRE, giving her full control over the western shore." 

Azula narrowed her eyes. "That's an oddly specific prediction." 

"Trust me, for the last year I've been closely monitoring the situation in the colonies," Sokka said and put his hand on his chest. "And not only monitoring, but because I'm a modest man, I won't mention those two times when I single-handed prevented the revolution." 

Azula rolled her eyes and moved on. The pine trees were becoming bigger and bigger and soon they turned into a full-fledged forest, filled with an intoxicating scent of fresh needles and thawing earth. The snow was almost gone and forest creatures were eagerly coming back to life after the winter, creating a symphony of chirps and rustles. Somehow, that drew Sokka's thoughts to the Fire Nation princess, riding by his side with a blank face as if she was hypnotized by her ostrich horse's steady gait. His attitude to Azula was changing, not that he developed warm feelings toward her or forgot what she had done, but more and more often he was thinking about what-ifs. What if that dick Ozai hadn't molded her in his image? What if she would've applied that mean, big brain of hers to something good? 

Finally, he cleared his throat and put on a casual expression. "You know, destiny is a funny thing..." 

"Save your breath, I'm fed up with Zuzu's sob story about finding his destiny," she muttered, staring ahead. As they were moving on, the sun falling through the branches was casting weird shadow patterns across her face, making her look like one of Zuko's theatrical masks. 

"Then hear the story of a certain Water Tribe warrior," Sokka said and took a deep breath in. Azula pretended to be interested in a squirrel jumping from tree to tree in front of them, but she raised her eyebrows slightly. "That brave and handsome warrior always thought that his destiny was inseparably linked with the South Pole. However, when he returned to his village after the war, nothing was as he had imagined it to be. He made himself really miserable trying to live up to what he supposed was his destiny. Fortunately, his wise father forced him to go as an ambassador to the Fire Nation. There it clicked; the warrior could make a better use of his amazing skills somewhere else, making the world a better place in the process." 

The princess sneered at him. "Well, that's all very touching, but I wonder what does the wise father think about his son's relationship with the Fire Lord." 

"That's completely besides the point." He pulled his reins back and jumped off the horse to remove a fallen branch blocking the path. "The moral of the story is: accepting that you were wrong about your destiny is the hardest part, then it only gets better," he said turning to Azula and dusting off his hands. 

"I'd say the moral is you're a crappy storyteller," she said, looking at him from above. "Besides, I don't see why you're telling me this." 

Sokka shrugged and got back on his ostrich horse. "For no particular reason at all." 

Azula's face again took on a pensive look; maybe she was thinking about his words after all or maybe she was wondering how to murder him in the most painful way. Although he was getting better in reading her facial expressions, sometimes it was hard to guess. She became slightly more agitated only after they had entered a wide gravel road leading to the border crossing and approached the end of the line. The temperature in the valley was much higher than on the pass and the feeble birches growing along the road weren't giving any shade or coolness. The last in line, a bulky fellow leaning against the side of his cart, protected himself from the sun by wrapping a shirt around his head, exposing a gray-haired chest and an old burn stretching from his arm to his breastbone. His face though was barely visible from behind a cloud of smoke coming from his cigarette. They stopped behind him and got off their horses. 

The princess rested her hands on her hips and frowned. "This line isn't moving at all." 

"Enjoy it while it lasts, kids," the bare-chested profiteer said grimly, without taking his eyes off a broken birch slouching at the roadside. 

"Why wouldn't it last?" Sokka asked, approaching the guy; suddenly he felt cold. 

"Haven't you heard?" The man turned to him; his left eye was covered by an eye-patch. "Local comrades are preparing to take over the valley." 

The Water tribesman snorted and shook his head. "That's nonsense, they don't stand a chance against Fire Nation troops." 

The profiteer puffed out smoke and exaggeratedly squinted around, holding a palm on his sweaty forehead. "Which Fire Nation troops? I don't see any within a 100 mile radius." 

Sokka's mouth went dry. The guy was right; it was the best time to take over the valley as the Fire Nation army was busy with strengthening the power in the mainland. "This will lead to a war," Sokka said and looked over at Azula. "We're fucked." 

"Well put, my friend," the man said and tossed a glowing cigarette butt on the road. "Soon this shithole will be on fire." 

Azula glanced at the cigarette butt and the glow immediately went out. The Water tribesman began to pace; they had to get to Ba Sing Se as quickly as possible. 

***

It was getting dark in the woods, but when Sokka noticed vague shapes looming on the road ahead of them he knew what it meant. The shortest road leading to Ba Sing Se was closed, because, of course, nothing could go smoothly. But the Water tribesman decided to approach the blockade anyway, they had been riding since the dawn and he became really attached to the idea of making a stop in a village. His main obstacles turned out to be two guys in People's Army uniforms; one of them was huddled by the campfire set by the road, while the other was relieving himself, fortunately standing deeper in the forest with his back to them. The soldiers' ostrich horses were unhurriedly pecking grass on a clearing on the other side of the road. When Sokka and Azula approached a makeshift barrier the horses looked up at them alertly. 

The one sitting at the campfire, a skinny teenager with a rusty canteen of colorless slop on his knees, took the spoon out of his mouth. "The unauthorized entry to the Forbidden Zone is punishable by death, turn around," he mumbled. 

Sokka gestured towards the barrier with disbelief. "But not even a month ago the Forbidden Zone was beginning like a half a day away from here." 

The other guy, probably the commanding officer, finished his business, slowly turned around and approached the barrier. "Now it begins here, comrade," he said in a hoarse voice and put his veiny hand at the hilt of his sword. "And I advise you not to be interested in it – it's not good for health." 

"We're interested only in getting north, but in that case we will go a different way. Have a great evening, comrades," Sokka said and turned his ostrich horse around, waving at Azula. When they were far enough to be sure that the grunts couldn't see them he gestured to the left. "Forbidden Zone or not, I will sleep under a roof tonight," he muttered and rode off the road; the forest litter rustled quietly under his horse's claws. The princess wasn't following him. "Come on, unless you want to sleep in a tent," he said, turning to her. 

It was an irrefutable argument, there weren't many things in the world that Azula hated more than sleeping in a tent; she grunted and reluctantly entered the forest. "What is this Forbidden Zone and why didn't you tell me about it?" she asked, knitting her eyebrows. 

"Didn't I?" Sokka rubbed the back of his neck. "I surely did, perhaps you weren't paying attention." Azula glared at him. "Or maybe I didn't, but you had a whole epoch to catch up with, OK? Anyway, it's probably Aang's fault. Shortly after his accident some folks supposedly found a portal to the Spirit World..." 

"There's a spirit portal in the Earth Kingdom and you didn't tell me about it?!" 

"Watch out!" He pointed her to a bush with which she was on a collision course; the forest was thickening. "I don't know anything about it, except that it probably exists. Just after its discovery the uprising happened and then, after the chaos slightly decreased, they created this constantly expanding Forbidden Zone. We're still trying to find out what's going on, but they're deadly serious about keeping it secret, literally." 

"And we're heading there for a sleepover?" she asked with resignation in her voice. 

"We're heading to a tiny village in the middle of a forest, so relax." 

If only Sokka could take his own advice; he wasn't sure anymore if he was really heading towards the village. It wasn't completely dark, thanks to the full moon, but slowly gathering fog didn't facilitate the orientation in the dense forest. Suddenly, he became aware of every creak of a branch and every rustle of a litter. The loud screeches of the moving treetops were making his skin crawl and each branch sliding across his leg was making him jump a little. When he spotted a cloaked figure in front of them, his heart dropped. 

In the darkness it took him some time to realize that it was an obelisk, standing at the entrance to the village. Initially, he was relieved, but then he noticed that something was wrong. At first sight the village – several cottages sprinkled on both sides of the narrow road, guarded by low wooden fences – looked exactly the same as a month ago. But then it hit him; all the windows were dark, smoke wasn't coming from any of the chimneys and it was disturbingly quiet. There was no living soul there, the villagers must have been displaced. 

When they approached the first cottage in a row he noticed something more – a previously neat flower garden was covered with some strange, thick vine. He decided to ignore it. After a quick check they found a small barn with the leftovers of firewood and hay. They left the horses in the barn and entered a low cottage with shabby blue shutters, plastered to the side of the barn; Sokka overladen with their bags and Azula carrying armfuls of firewood. The hall was dark and freezing cold. 

"The kitchen?" Azula asked, turning to him. 

"The kitchen," he replied with a small smile; the princess had already learned that the kitchen was the warmest place in a cottage like this. 

The kitchen was a tiny, damp room with the furnace on the inner wall and the square window facing onto the road. The moonlight, coming through the window, was illuminating the only thing left by the owners, a knotty table placed in the middle of the kitchen. Sokka quickly lit the fire in the furnace with the help of Azula and moved the table to the side, to make room for their sleeping bags. In the process, he discovered a hatch in the floor, leading to a small wine cellar containing a handful of bottles. He took out one of the bottles, opened it with a loud pop and took a sip. 

"Apple wine!" he said to Azula, who was sitting on her sleeping bag and combing her hair. "Do you want some?" he asked, but she only grimaced. Sokka took the bottle and crouched in front of the furnace; it was still ice-cold and his hands were numb. 

"What would you say for a little sparring?" he asked, turning to the princess. "No bending, only swords." 

"I can take you out without bending _and_ swords," she said with superiority, trying to untangle a comb from a knot on the back of her head. "You're favoring your right leg, which makes you a ridiculously easy opponent." 

"I wouldn't do that if I wasn't injured while saving the Earth Kingdom from your father," he replied, flopping down on the floor. "It's weird though, all the healers of the world say that my left leg is totally fine, but I can't stop it." 

Azula gave up with the comb and lowered her hands. "It may not be physical," she said and Sokka looked at her surprised. "Something similar happened to me when I was a child." 

"You were thrown from one airship to another? Well, it sounds like a typical Fire Nation's method of parenting." 

"It happened when I was mastering lightning," she said proudly. "I had a minor accident during which I injured my right arm. The arm quickly healed, but I began to unconsciously favor the other one. It was only after my father..." Her words were interrupted by a loud crash coming from somewhere near the obelisk. 

Sokka put down the bottle. "It's probably some hungry boar-q-pine, but I'll check it out, just in case. Stay here," he said, jumping on his feet. 

He grabbed his sword, left the house and rushed toward the obelisk. There was something menacing in the way in which dark windows were looking at him. The dense fog became damper and the cold made him shudder, but some part of him was grateful that he could go out. After all the stories he had heard from Zuko he wasn't eager to learn how Ozai had "cured" Azula's imbalance. Sokka stopped near the obelisk; he couldn't see much through the fog, so he listened. The only sounds were chirping of the crickets and occasional screeching of the owls. 

Suddenly, he heard a crack of a twig on his left and saw a shadow in the corner of his eye. He cautiously stepped into the forest and moved in the direction of the sound, trying to not to step on any twig. Barely visible trail led him to a small hill, from which he spotted a figure standing on a clearing among fallen logs. The clearing was devoid of any fog and the figure, a girl with long white hair in a white dress, was unusually brightly lit by the moonlight. Sokka scurried down to the clearing, slipping on the moss and almost losing his balance. 

"Yue?" he asked, approaching her. 

"I'm sorry for scaring you, Sokka, but I have to talk with you alone," she said, turning to him. Her delicate, young face framed by white hair was glowing in a silver light. 

Sokka rubbed his eyes. "Is this really you or did I drink something other than apple wine?" 

"Will anything I say convince you that I'm real?" she asked with her inimitable smile. 

"Fair point." His legs refused to obey him and he plopped down on a damp log, looking up at the princess. The warmth in her deep blue eyes evoked a storm of feelings in him, ranging from sorrow and guilt to joy and comfort. "It's good to see you anyway," he said, blinking away the tears. 

Yue laced her hands in front of her. "Sokka, my dear, listen to me, you have to protect princess Azula at all cost." 

"I'm trying my best, Yue, I promised that to Zuko." 

"I know, but it's more important that you think," she said in a tender voice. "And tomorrow morning you have to leave the Forbidden Zone, it's too early for her." 

"Too early for what? And why is it so important? Were you always that cryptic or is this some kind of Moon Spirit's professional code?" he asked, scratching the side of his head. 

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you more." She glanced in the direction of the village and frowned. "Now go and find Azula, it seems that the princess got herself into trouble," she said and began to fade away. 

"Wait! Can you tell me anything about Zuko?" 

Yue cupped his face with her translucent hand. "Zuko did what he had to do, have faith in him." 

Sokka closed his eyes; when he opened them again, she was already gone. "I don't want to have faith in him, I want to have him by my side," he said quietly, looking at the moon. 

***

Azula listened to the fading sound of Sokka's footsteps, staring blankly at the yellow flame steadily crackling in the furnace. She was tired, miserable and she had a damned comb stuck in her hair. In the last, desperate attempt to free the comb, she pulled it violently, painfully plucking some of the tangled hair. Tears welled up in her eyes and she hurled the comb on the dirty floor. What was all that for? She could do nothing to get her life back, no matter how desperately she wanted it. 

All of a sudden, a flash of blue light came through the window. The princess wiped her tears, silently crawled to the window and took a glimpse at the moonlit road. The road was empty, but soon another flash of blue light happened; it was coming from an old barn, partially hidden behind the cottage across the road. Azula took her dao swords and left the house. 

When she entered the barn it was dim and empty. There was no place where anybody could hide, but something was flickering in the corner, under the leftovers of hay spread across the floor. She approached the corner, crouched and brushed the hay aside. Her hand freezed when she recognized a familiar mark that was haunting her in her dreams. She wanted to run away, but her hand, guided by some inexplicable force, reached to the glowing symbol. At the moment she touched it, everything went completely dark and she began to fall down. 

Azula opened her eyes and blinked. She was lying on her back under the blue sky. For a while she was dizzy, but then she slowly moved to an upright position and gasped. She was on a rock shelf connected by a stone bridge with a mountain soaring above the foggy abyss. The mountain was overgrown with lush vegetation, but its top was covered with towers and terraces. Azula felt a rush of adrenaline; she was looking at the Air Nomads' temple and there were only two explanations of that view, either she had been kidnapped or... 

Suddenly, she spotted slight movement on one of the lower terraces. She crossed the bridge and entered a steep, winding path leading to the temple. After a few steps she decided to propel herself using fire, so she clenched her fists and swung her hands down, but nothing happened. The princess raised her fists and looked at them with disbelief; her heart began to race. Then it occurred to her that maybe she had been drugged or poisoned, which weakened her chi. It had to be the reason; she began to vigorously climb the path. 

The scene unfolding on the grassy terrace made her stop in her tracks. The children in yellow-red clothes were sitting cross-legged at the edge of the terrace, facing the abyss. One of them, significantly taller than the rest, turned around and stood up. Azula's jaw dropped. It was the Avatar. 

The Air Nomad, who was now taller than Azula, approached her; his earnest gray eyes were expressing friendliness. She pressed her eyeballs with her knuckles, but the vision didn't disappear. 

"Are you all right?" the Avatar asked with concern, putting his tattooed hand on her shoulder. "Can I help you somehow?" 

She made a step back. "Don't you recognize me?" 

"Are you one of Kuzon's friends?" he asked sheepishly. "I'm sorry but I can't recall you." 

"I'm princess Azula of the Fire Nation," she said, straightening her back. "How could you forget me, Avatar?" 

He glanced around. "How do you know I'm the Avatar? I just found out about it," he whispered, leaning to her. 

"Hey Aang, what are you doing there?" yelled one of the children, turning around. 

"I'm talking to princess Azula of the Fire Nation," the Avatar shouted back and gestured towards her. 

"But there's nobody there!" 

Another child turned around. "You better stop these pranks, Aang, or even monk Gyatso won't help you!" 

The Avatar gasped and his gray eyes went wide. "They can't see you, you're a spirit! I didn't expect to meet a spirit so fast, that's so cool!" 

"I'm not a spirit!" Azula snapped and noticed with terror that her hands began to fade away. 

"You're already leaving?" the Avatar exclaimed with disappointment. "Well, it was nice to meet you, spirit of princess Azula of the Fire Nation!" he said and began to wave his hand wildly. 

She wanted to shout that she was not a spirit, but everything went dark and she plunged into the abyss, hearing some high-pitched voice above her head. 

"...and La, wake up, Azula," the voice was saying. 

Azula opened her eyes and realized that Sokka was leaning over her, shaking her arms. She jerked her arms backwards and stood up, but her dizziness caused her to stagger. Sokka jumped to his feet and held her left arm. 

"What happened? Why did you leave the house?" he asked, raising his voice. 

Azula touched her forehead. "I thought I saw someone, so I went to check it out. I must have tripped and lose consciousness." 

Sokka looked at her suspiciously. "Didn't you see anything strange? I saw...something, I think it's because of the proximity of this spirit portal." 

The princess was still shaking slightly, but she put on a contemptuous expression. "And not because of your proximity with that bottle of wine?" She freed her arm and brushed her tunic with her hand. "By the way, are there any bottles left?" The Water tribesman nodded. 

After half of a bottle of sour wine Azula's mind was hazy, but she was still painfully conscious. She lied on her sleeping bag with the bottle in her hand, looking at the shadows cast by the furnace's light on the log ceiling; the thoughts would not leave her. That damned symbol had haunted her in her dreams for over a year now, accidentally Zuko had found it in an old scroll looking for a way of curing the Avatar and now this vision had happened. Azula didn't want to embrace the implications of all of this, but one thing was still bothering her. 

"Hey _swordbender_ , are you asleep?" she asked, looking at the still body wrapped in the sleeping bag. 

Sokka groaned. "You won't let up on me, will you?" 

"Does the name Kuzon mean anything to you?" 

"Aang used that name pretending to be Fire Nation. If I recall correctly, he borrowed it from one of his friends from a hundred years ago." The Water tribesman rolled on his side and leaned on his arm. "Why are you asking?" 

"For no particular reason," she said and turned her back on him, hinting that the conversation was over. 


	7. A Tough One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for violence/blood.

"Is it me, or does this fluffy cloud look like a giant sea crab?" The Water tribesman asked and his stomach rumbled angrily. Their food supplies had run out two days ago, but it seemed like a month; he felt weak. 

The sea of wildly green hills, scattered with white, yellow, and red wildflowers, stretched as far as the eye could see under the blue sky. The warm, flower-scented air was still; the only sound, except for his growling stomach, was the rustle of knee-high grass, squashed by their ostrich horses' feet. Sokka had no clue where to go. 

Azula threw her head back, laughing bitterly. "It's unbelievable. Those fools sent their best assassins after me and I will die of starvation because you can't read maps." Then she grabbed her stomach with her hand. "And no, this cloud doesn't look like a crab, it looks like a komodo chicken." 

Sokka smelled the faint scent of fried komodo chicken and grabbed his own stomach. "I told you, these aren't real maps, they're rough sketches. And it was you who insisted on crossing that river." Azula's eyes became ice-cold and her palm clenched into a fist. "Aaanyway, it's all because of that stupid blockade, otherwise I wouldn't set my foot on this spirits-forsaken land," he said conciliatory. "But we won't starve. We will make it to Ba Sing Se and we will have the fattest komodo chicken and a meat kebab for dinner!" 

"And a chocolate tart," Azula said, narrowing her eyes. 

Sokka closed his weary eyelids. "A dozen of chocolate tarts. Also, a dozen crab puffs and..." 

"A man!" 

"Um, I'm not sure what Zuko would say about that one," he said, turning to her, but Azula ignored him. She was looking ahead at a figure looming up from behind a steep hill; they were saved. 

They galloped up the hill, almost reaching the top, but suddenly a ferocious barking ripped through the warm silence. A black, furry monster appeared on the slope and darted towards them, baring its fangs. The man on the hill, an old-timer leaning on a stick, whistled loudly, which magically convinced the dog to turn back. Still, they slowed down their ostrich horses as they were approaching the dried-up shepherd. His herd of skinny antelope cows was slowly climbing the other side of the hill, swarmed by giant black flies. 

The man in a worn tunic patted the beast and grinned, exposing black remnants of his teeth. "Dumpling won't bite you unless you attack the cows." As if to confirm this, the dog waggled its curled tail. 

"That's very assuring," Sokka said, glancing suspiciously at Dumpling. "But we're so desperate that we might eat them alive if you don't sell us some food." 

The shepherd turned around and pointed towards the path traversing one of the hills with his stick. "You'll get some in the village, but you better go to mister Commissioner first. You know how it is these days." 

Sokka cursed under his breath. "Of course." 

_Great_. Another tipsy, gross big guy testing Azula's patience was just what the Water tribesman needed now. Every day the princess looked more and more ordinary with her drab clothes, short hair, and tan, but it still wasn't preventing those dipshits from attempts at a "strip search". Lucky for him, the grunts were more attracted by his bribes than by Azula's deadly charms; all the encounters so far had been relatively peaceful, but the memory of the last one, which had almost turned into bloodshed, made him shudder. 

The village was crammed into a narrow valley, surrounded by gentle green slopes. Just like the shepherd had said, the Commissioner's building was distanced from its neighbors, but otherwise, it didn't differ from the rest of the cottages. It was a typical one-story log house with a bench placed under a green-painted window, a well in the front yard, and a latrine in the backyard. To the delight of a little flock of pig hens, the ground before the entrance was covered by a wide puddle, letting them have the time of their life in the mud. 

"Remember, try not to threaten this guy, no matter what. Ideally, don't say anything at all. We don't need any troubles, we need food," Sokka whispered, tying his ostrich horse to the low fence; the princess rolled her eyes. 

A sign saying "Commissioner's Office", hanging crookedly above the entrance, left no doubt that they were at the right door. Sokka sighed and knocked, waiting for a lewd grandpa with a booze belly and the face of a drunk to show up. Surprisingly, the door was opened by a clean-shaven, lean guy around thirty, looking at them from behind wire-rimmed spectacles with wistful green eyes. His black, thick hair was a mess, but together with a spot of ink smeared on his sharp cheekbone, it was adding him some weird charm. If not for his khaki uniform and lieutenant shoulder mark, Sokka would be sure that the guy was another lost traveler. The young Commissioner was as astonished as the Water tribesman, judging from his raised eyebrows. 

"Um... Hi, we would like to buy some food, but we were told to visit you first," Sokka said. 

"I have to register you," the Commissioner said apologetically; his voice had a nice timbre. "Please, come in." He opened the door wider, exposing his left side, and Sokka's eyes lingered on the left sleeve of his uniform. The guy had no forearm and his sleeve was tied in a knot on the elbow level. 

They followed the officer through the tiny, stuffed hall, passed the open kitchen door, and entered the office. The hunger had heightened Sokka's sense of smell and his stomach growled, irritated by the faint fragrance of fried eggs coming from the kitchen. The Commissioner tactfully pretended not to hear that, gesturing towards the sturdy oak desk covered with scrolls and written sheets of paper. Sokka and Azula sat down on the chairs standing in front of the desk, while their host approached a tall wooden rack groaning with books and scrolls. The content of the rack immediately caught Azula's attention. 

Sokka looked around the modest room. The grimy window was facing onto the road and there was a closed door, leading probably to the bedroom, the only other room in the house; the back corner of the office was occupied by something covered with a dirty cloth. The Commissioner finally found what he had been looking for and sat at the desk, pinning a dusted notebook under his left arm. He distractedly looked at the scrolls and sheets of paper and rapidly shoved them to the side, almost knocking over the inkwell. Then he put the notebook on the desk, brushed off the dust with his hand, and regretfully looked at the smuged fringe of his sleeve. Sokka passed him their passports, suppressing the smile. 

The officer put the passports on the desk and looked at them over his battered spectacles with interest. "What brings Fire Nation citizens here? Is the world coming to an end?" 

Sokka's shoulders slumped. "The generals overthrew the Fire Lord and there's a peasants' uprising brewing in Ban Bi Chu, so yeah, pretty much." 

The Commissioner reeled back in the squeaky chair, running his hand through his unruly hair, and exhaled loudly. "The war is coming," he said with a serious expression. "What happened to the Fire Lord? Is he alive?" 

"He's under house arrest," Sokka replied quickly. 

"At least that's good." 

Azula crossed her arms in front of her. "Aren't you supposed to hate the Fire Lord as the oppressor of the people, _Commissioner_?" she asked. Sokka glanced anxiously towards the officer, regretting that he had introduced the princess to Kuvira's doctrine. 

"That's an oversimplification," the man replied calmly. "I admire Fire Lord Zuko for his effort to make amends and even more for breaking with Sozin's propaganda and changing the narrative. Which, of course, doesn't mean that I support the political system rooted in exploitation and inequality." Sokka gaped. Who was this guy? Their host spoke with flawless diction and clearly wasn't from here. 

"Ah, I see," Azula said with a glint in her eye, tilting her head. "You prefer the political system where every citizen is equally poor." The Water tribesman tried to discreetly nudge her with his foot, but she noticed that and kicked him first. 

The young officer took off his spectacles and his face saddened; suddenly, he began to look older. "I'd prefer a system where you're not condemned to a wretched existence just because you were born in a certain place. But I'm afraid it won't happen soon, if ever, neither in the Fire Nation nor here." 

Now, that was an interesting statement coming from the People's Army lieutenant, but Sokka got more concerned with sudden traffic, which formed outside the house. When they had arrived there wasn't a single person there and currently every few seconds someone was passing by the fence. Most of the passerbys had appeared behind the window at least twice. 

The Water tribesman cleared his throat. "I don't want to interrupt this interesting, peaceful discussion, but I think something is happening outside." 

The Commissioner took his eyes off Azula and absently glanced towards the window. "They're just curious. No one comes to this village, except for crop collectors." At that moment they heard a vigorous knock at the front door. "You can come in, Miri La!" the host shouted towards the entrance. 

The front door opened with a creak and a stocky woman in her fifties briskly stepped into the house. Her hair was concealed beneath the beige scarf, neatly wrapped around her head, and in her hand she was carrying a plate of dried apricots. She approached the desk and sized them up with a shrewd look in her eyes; the amazing scent of apricots filled the room. 

"I thought so," the woman said as if she was admonishing a child. "We have visitors for the first time in ages and our Commissioner doesn't even have any refreshments." She shoved the forgotten notebook to the side and put the plate on the desk. 

"I don't, good thing you came to my aid. That's very kind of you," the wrongdoer said in a serious tone, but the corners of his lips quirked upwards. Sokka and Azula reached the plate at the same time and their hands bumped together. 

The woman rested her hands on her wide hips. "You see? We have to feed that poor man and his..." Her hazel eyes began to pierce Sokka. 

"Sister," Sokka blurted out, remembering what had happened the last time they had pretended to be a couple. The Commissioner and the nosy woman exchanged confused looks. "Sister-in-law, to be precise, but at this point, we're practically like siblings, right sis?" he added, nudging the princess in the arm. Azula's face was still, but her eyes flickered with anger. 

The Commissioner turned to the villager. "Our visitors would like to buy some food, could you arrange that, Miri La?" 

"Sure thing," she replied and one last time swept them with a vigilant glance. A moment after she closed the door behind her they heard her yell. "Don't you have anything better to do, you loafers? Go back to work!" 

Sokka looked outside the window; the crowd began to disperse. "That's one scary right-hand woman," he said appreciatively. 

"In fact, it's quite the opposite." The Commissioner put his spectacles back on with a small smile. "She's the one who is in charge here and I'm just her right-hand man." Azula looked at the window and spat with contempt. 

Sokka chuckled. "In that case, I guess you don't have much crime to fight." 

"Well, currently my main duty is to track and confiscate the instances of a certain invention," the Commissioner said, glancing towards the object covered with a cloth. 

Sokka pricked up his ears with interest. "What kind of invention?" he asked, but then he realized that it wasn't a good question to ask the People's Army officer, no matter how polite the guy was. "Not that I'm trying to spy here," he added, raising his hands. "I'm asking because I'm an inventor myself." 

"It's not a secret." The Commissioner stood up and approached the object. "It surely can cause the UPRE to collapse, but it doesn't even need the help of foreign spies," he said, uncovering the cloth. The dangerous invention looked disappointing; it consisted of two barrels joined by a metal tube. 

"What does it do?" Sokka asked, scratching his head. 

The Commissioner returned to the desk, opened one of the drawers, and took out a half-empty bottle of a murky liquid. _Moonshine_. Sokka wanted to hide his face in embarrassment, feeling like a total moron. He had seen that "invention" before, at the Northern Air Temple, but the Mechanist's version was much more sophisticated. 

"Would you like to try it?" the Commissioner asked with a friendly smile. "For research purposes, of course." Sokka nodded. "And you?" The man turned to Azula. "I must warn you, it's strong stuff." The princess gave him a stink eye. "Alright, I'll take this as a yes." He went to the kitchen, returned with three glasses on a tray, and poured the moonshine. "Cheers," he said and tilted the glass. 

Sokka followed his example and took a sip. It was really strong, his throat was on fire. 

Azula looked at them uncertainly and also took the sip. Her eyes widened; she immediately spat the moonshine out and put the glass back with a loud thump. "What is this?! Are you trying to poison me?!" 

"In a manner of speaking, yes, but not without your consent," the officer said, clearly amused. Azula's fists were steaming. 

Sokka grabbed her arm. "Calm down, what the Commissioner means is that alcohol is a poison. Worst-case scenario, you end up with a killer hangover." 

"The worst one in your life," the Commissioner said, clicking his tongue. 

The Water tribesman nodded, looking at the glass of murky liquid in his hand. "I figured." 

The princess relaxed her fists, but she didn't stop shooting hostile glances at both of them. 

***

Following the directions given by the Commissioner, after reaching the crossroads they took a left turn and entered a forest. The steady gait of Sokka's ostrich horse, the calm hum of the beeches, and the hearty lunch in his stomach were making him drowsy. When Azula ordered a bathroom break and disappeared in the forest the Water Tribesman got off his ostrich horse and did a few sit-ups to chase away sleep, still thinking about Miri La's potato pancakes. He would gladly make a longer stay in that village, but they didn't have time for that; they had to contact Iroh. 

The forest litter rustled and Azula stepped on the road. "I would kill for decent shoes," she said humorlessly, crouching to adjust one of her boots. 

Sokka wanted to reply, but he spotted a slight movement in the corner of his left eye. He turned his head left and a chill went down his spine. An archer hidden behind a tree was releasing an arrow. 

"Watch out! On your right!" 

Azula raised her head and managed to move just an inch; the arrow stuck in her stomach. The princess looked at her abdomen in shock. The man behind the tree pulled out another arrow from his quiver. Sokka rushed towards the archer, tossing his boomerang at him. The man ducked. Meanwhile, Sokka shortened the distance between them, drew his sword, and charged at the assassin. The archer threw the bow away and drew his own blade with a loud clink. He easily parried Sokka's blow and slashed at him, stepping forward. Sokka slipped back, his heart thumping wildly; the archer's blade barely missed him. 

The man was inhumanely strong and fast. Sokka hardly blocked the next blow, panting heavily; he had to step back and shift his weight to the right side, sliding on the dirt road. Suddenly, the archer lunged forward and swept Sokka's right leg. A sharp pain shot through the Water tribesman's calf and the ground shifted under his feet. Landing on his back, at the last moment before the archer's final blow, Sokka grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into his eyes. The blinded assassin blinked rapidly. 

"Stay low," Azula said in a hoarse voice, standing somewhere behind Sokka. 

The archer rushed towards her and flew straight into a wide stream of blue fire. Sokka bent down, hit by a heat wave, and instinctively covered his head with his hands. The archer's upper body melted; his charred, bloodied corpse collapsed forward with a loud thud. Sokka threw himself to the left, barely avoiding being crushed by the massacred body. His stomach churned from the sickly sweet smell of burnt flesh. 

"Fuck, Azula," he said turning to the princess. 

She was staggering in the middle of the road, white as a sheet, with sweat beaded on her contorted face. Sokka jumped to his feet, ignoring the pain in his right calf, and wrapped his arms around her; she shook badly. He himself was barely able to breathe. Powerlessly looking around, he felt the prick of tears. Everything went quiet, the forest was again filled only with the humming of the trees; hopefully, they were alone. Sokka slowly guided the princess to a place occluded by a clump of bushes and helped her to sit with her back against the tree. Her drab tunic soaked with blood around the arrow shaft. 

"Stay with me," he said in a trembling voice. 

"I'm not going...anywhere," she replied weakly. 

The stain of blood on Azula's tunic grew, reaching her sash. Sokka wanted to scream in helplessness. He was useless; if only he was a waterbender like Katara... He took a sharp breath in, looked around, and reached behind Azula's back. 

"We have to stop the bleeding," he said, carefully untying her sash. He placed the sash around the arrow shaft coming out of her abdomen and put her hands on it. "Press it tight. I'll check if it's safe here and go for help, I'll be back in no time." Azula nodded; a wince of pain on her face caused him to shudder. 

The Water tribesman went back on the road and scurried to the massive oak, behind which the archer had been hiding. The archer's ostrich horse was tied to a birch, further in a forest; fortunately, the assassin – Yuyan Archer – seemed to work alone and there was no sign of a messenger hawk in his stuff. Sokka left the horse and approached the half-melted corpse lying on the road. He grabbed the body by the fine leather boots, holding his breath and gritting his teeth, and dragged it to the forest. Finally, battling against his revolting stomach, he jumped on his ostrich horse and galloped towards the village. 

He almost plowed into a wretched fence of the Commissioner's house, pulling back the reins at the last moment. His hands were shaking and he struggled with tying the horse. A little girl, who was reading a book sitting in front of the office, offered him his help. He thanked her, darted to the door, and began to bang on them. 

"We need your help," Sokka said, trying to catch his breath, when the surprised Commissioner opened the door. "We were attacked, my...sister-in-law is seriously injured." 

The man looked at the girl in a patched tunic, taking care of the horse, and gestured Sokka to come in. "Who had attacked you here?" he asked suspiciously, closing the door. 

"A guy from the Fire Nation. Some people there want us dead." 

The Commissioner frowned. "I'm sorry, but I can't compromise the safety of the village." 

"You won't, I promise! He was working alone and he's...taken care of." Sokka paused to take a breath. "I'm begging you, if you won't help us she'll die and I can't let this happen," he said and his voice cracked. 

The officer sighed and opened the front door; the little girl was petting the ostrich horse tied to a fence. "Ikari, please go to Miri La and tell her that I need a cart immediately. Then go home and don't tell anyone about it." 

The girl tossed her black braid over her shoulder, stood to attention, and saluted; Sokka realized that she had amber eyes. "Aye, comrade Commissioner!" she shouted and scurried away. 

"Won't you send for a doctor?" the Water tribesman asked. 

"Unfortunately, Miri La and I are the closest to a doctor we have." 

Soon, Miri La appeared in front of the fence, driving an empty hay cart drawn by an ostrich horse. After a quick deliberation, she went to the Commissioner's house to prepare hot water and clean sheets. The Commissioner sat in front of the cart, taking both reins in his only hand and Sokka crouched in the back; on the way he tried to coherently explain what had happened to them. When they arrived at the forest the Water tribesman jumped off the cart and rushed towards the clump of the bushes. Azula's face was twisted in pain and even paler, but she was still conscious and she was still holding the sash; her shaking hands were covered in blood. 

"Do you have any other arrows of that archer?" the Commissioner asked, approaching them from behind with furrowed eyebrows. Sokka took him to the corpse, the smell of which became suffocating. The officer's eyes widened. "She did it with an arrow in her abdomen?" he asked, pushing his spectacles up his nose. 

Sokka nodded. "She's a tough one." 

They turned the body over and the Commissioner took out one of the half-burnt arrows from the quiver. "Barbed arrow, I was afraid of that," he said, shaking his head. Then he threw the arrow on the ground and looked at the corpse. "We can't leave it like that." 

"There's no time to give him a funeral," Sokka said nervously. 

"I can make it quick," the officer said bitterly, moving to a nearby clearing. He took a wide stance, bent his knees, and swung his hand in front of him; a pile of earth moved to the side, creating a hole. _Of course_. Sokka dragged the stinking body to the hole and the earthbender covered it. 

On their way back, Sokka kneeled next to Azula, trying to stabilize her, while the squeaky cart bounced on the uneven road. Her face looked much different without a snarky expression and Sokka suddenly realized how lightweight and fragile she was, feeling cold at the thought that she could not make it. When they finally reached the village, he carefully carried the princess straight to the kitchen and laid her down on a white sheet spread on the table; Azula groaned with pain. The kitchen was hot and stuffy; the furnace was blazing and the pots with already boiled water were standing on the kitchen top, next to the pile of clean cloths. Miri La approached the princess with the knife and began to cut her tunic around the arrow. 

"It doesn't look good, comrade Commissioner, it's already infected," she said, throwing bloodied scraps of fabric to the bucket sitting on the floor. 

The Commissioner grabbed a stool, sat near Azula, and leaned to the princess. "Listen to me," he said gently, looking her in the eye. "I'm not a physician, I'm just a soldier who spent some time in the field hospital during the war. But from what I've learned, arrows need to be extracted as soon as possible, otherwise, they cause a deadly infection." 

"Then...do it," she said, contorting her face; her voice was getting weaker. 

"It's not that simple, the arrow has barbs, which will cause a lot of damage. There is a huge risk that you will bleed out after the extraction." The Commissioner paused and glanced towards the knot on his left sleeve. "The only way to stop the bleeding that I can think of in the present circumstances is cauterization. It's extremely painful and it will leave a nasty scar, but it can save your life." Azula's eyes welled up. She looked at Sokka and then back at the officer. "Should we do it?" the man asked quietly. The princess squeezed her eyes shut and nodded; a single tear escaped her eye and ran down her cheek. 

Sokka stood on one side of the table, holding Azula by the hip and by the arm to immobilize her. Miri La took the place on the other side, ready to take out the arrow. Finally, the Commissioner joined them, holding a heated iron broad-ax in his hand. 

"I wish there was some other way," he said sorrowfully and nodded at them. 

The Water tribesman tightened his grip on Azula's body. Miri La yanked the arrow with a quick, firm motion and Azula jerked her body with a horrible scream; her blood gushed over the woman. The Commissioner immediately put the red-hot iron to the wound and the burnt flesh sizzled. The princess let out an excruciating shriek and her body went limp. 

Sokka heavily leaned on the table, close to fainting; Azula's scream was still vibrating in his ears. The officer's face was devoid of color and his hand was trembling. 

"She won't wake up soon, if at all," said Miri La, approaching the kitchen top to wet clean cloth. "You two go and have a drink, I'll take care of her," she added in a commanding voice. 

"Are you sure?" the Commissioner asked with concern, wiping the sweat from his brow; his black, damp hair was stuck to his forehead. 

The woman wrung the cloth and shrugged. "I was helping to deliver babies before both of you were born, I've seen worse." She approached Azula and began to wash her pale, bloodied stomach. "What are you waiting for? Off you go." 

They went to the office and approached the desk; the three glasses were still there, Azula's one left untouched. The Commissioner filled the other two with the moonshine and fell heavily in his chair. Sokka drank the whole glass in one gulp and looked at the man sitting in front of him. 

"Is she...gonna make it?" the Water tribesman asked. 

"As I said, I'm not a physician," the Commissioner replied, running his hand through his hair. "Taking into account the angle of the arrow, there's a chance that it didn't damage any internal organs, so there's hope." He put his empty glass on the desk and poured them another round. 

_Hope_. Sokka greedily took a gulp. The booze helped a little, but he was still shaking. What was he supposed to do? He was determined to save Azula, not only because he had promised that to Zuko or because of what Yue had said to him, he genuinely cared for the princess. At the same time, now he could do nothing to help her, meanwhile, Zuko was imprisoned and the war between the Fire Nation and the UPRE was brewing; the Water tribesman had to contact Iroh in no time. 

He took another sip of the moonshine and glanced at the Commissioner. The man was absently looking through the window, holding a glass in his trembling hand. The young officer surely wasn't one of those thugs who suddenly had become big guys in the army, thanks to the uprising; there was no trace of cruelty or arrogance on his face, only deep sorrow. Sokka's instincts were never wrong about people, so he was sure that he could trust this guy. Besides, the guy was a bender, Azula would be a hundred times safer with him, he thought bitterly. 

"I have to leave immediately," the Water tribesman said, putting his glass back. "But I'll be back as soon as possible and I'll pay you well for taking care of her." 


	8. Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for non-graphic description of war crimes and a criminal translation of a poem.

A severe pounding in her head was making her nauseous. Her throat was parched and her mouth was dry. Every inch of her skin burned and every joint of her body manifested its existence by ache. She woke up tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, miserably weak, disgusting, and unworthy of her royal title. And all because of a stupid turtle duck. 

Or rather because of her stupid brother. Only Zuzu could be so dumb to throw himself into the pond to rescue an abandoned duckling sitting on a water lily leaf. And only Zuzu, one and only, could be so clumsy to get tangled in water lily stems. Spirits know what might have happened if Azula hadn't dived into the ice-cold, murky water. But since she had dived into the stupid pond, Dum-Dum was perfectly fine while she was in her bed with a cold. It was a clear sign from Agni to stop acting like her dumb brother. Father would be deeply disappointed in her if he knew what she had done. Azula shivered; Father should never know about this. 

It was about time to end this pathetic display of weakness, get up from the bed, and go to her practice. She raised her back only slightly and screamed as pain ripped through her stomach. Soon, rapid footsteps echoed in the corridor and the door opened with a creak; her mom walked in, followed by Lo. Azula made another piteous attempt to rise from the bed, ending with the same piteous result. 

"Don't get up, your wound is still fresh," her mom said, sitting upon a chair beside the bed. When did she start wearing spectacles? 

On the verge of tears, Azula shifted her body to the side of the bed, ignoring the pain. "You don't understand, I can't stay in bed." Mom raised her eyebrows; of course, she didn't understand at all. "I have to go to practice or Father will be displeased." 

"Well... Your father sent me here to ensure that you rest well," her mom said, laying a soothing, cool hand on Azula's forehead and glancing at Lo with a worried expression; the princess relaxed under the touch. "She's burning up." 

"And she's delirious as heck. Frankly, there's no way she's gonna make it, comrade Commissioner," Lo said. 

_She's delirious_. Azula had heard it somewhere before and didn't like it very much. "Who are you talking to, Lo?" she asked, furrowing her brows. 

"Don't worry about it," mom said and turned to Lo. "Could you help her to drink? I'll get a cold cloth." The older woman shrugged. 

Azula drank the cold liquid greedily, despite its bitter taste and an unpleasant herbal scent. With a wet, cold cloth on her forehead, the princess could think more clearly and got an idea of how to make use of the time spent in bed. 

"Come on, that's all we can do," Lo said and moved towards the door; mom followed her. 

"Wait!" Azula shifted in her bed and hissed in pain. "Mom, can you read to me about great general Aiso and his victory in the battle of Katizu?" 

Lo snorted and looked at mom, shaking her head. "Fire Nation," she muttered as if it was an insult. 

Azula's mom hesitated for a while. "I'm afraid I don't have anything on this subject, but I can read you something else." 

"Are you out of your mind?" Lo asked, putting her hands on her hips. "She's..." Mom interrupted her with some gesture. 

They both left the bedroom, closing the creaky door behind them. Azula listened to a murmur of their argument, trying to distinguish words. After some time, mom came back with a bunch of papers in her hand and sat beside her bed, looking unsure. Probably, she was wondering if Zuzu could survive five minutes without her supervision. Azula doubted that it was possible, but she didn't care anymore. 

Mom cleared her throat and began to read. " _King Ze, the wisest of the wise and the bravest of the brave, went hunting in the vast woods of his land – the King was hunting... In the pursuit of the game, galloping through thickets and swamps, he left his faithful retinue far behind. The King found himself alone in the wilderness..._ " 

There was something off about her voice, it was strangely low, but at the same time gentle and reassuring. Listening to it was comforting and it didn't even bother Azula that the story was bizarre and surely unrelated to her studies. Secretly, the young princess enjoyed having colds; only then her mother was often coming to her room to read to her, bringing her tea and biscuits. Today was one of those rare days when Azula fell asleep before her mom had to leave. 

***

Azula blinked several times, wrinkling her nose; the sour-bitter stench of sweat and excreta, wafting in the stuffy air, was nauseating. When the light falling into her eyes became less blinding she raised her head slightly and gasped; her heart began to race. Her bedgown was pulled up to her chest, her stomach was wrapped with a yellowish linen bandage, the rest of her body was shamefully uncovered and someone was bent over her. 

"Get away from me!" the princess shouted at a stocky woman in a headscarf. She pointed her clenched fists at the intruder, but all that came out were little puffs of smoke; her hands trembled. 

"I'm almost done," the hazel-eyed woman said impassively. She took a white cloth, deftly wrapped it around Azula like...a diaper, and pulled down princesses' bedgown. "There you go," she added, covering her with a musty, brown blanket. Burning from shame and humiliation, Azula attempted to rise to an upright position, but a sharp pain ripped through stomach. The woman shook her head. "Be careful with that." 

The princess scanned the room in confusion. She was lying in a shabby narrow bed, surrounded by unfamiliar dark log walls. The blinding light was coming from a grimy window, overlooking a woodpile and a latrine. All furniture crammed in the claustrophobic room – a tiny nightstand, a small table covered with papers, two wooden chests and a faded blue wardrobe – was battered and worn. Under the opposite wall, she noticed an unmade straw mattress and further in the corner a familiar bag and pair of dao swords. 

The stocky woman stepped away, bent, and picked up a bucket with murky water and a splotchy cloth. Suddenly, the river of memories flooded Azula's mind; she winced and buried her face in her hands. 

"Buck up, you'll be good as new in no time," the woman – Miri La – said, approaching the door. "It's not like you have a fistula." 

"Like I have what?" Azula asked sharply, raising her head. 

"Sometimes, when you're giving birth, a baby gets stuck inside you, tearing everything apart. After that, your piss and poop just leak from you and you can't do a damn about it." 

"Ugh, that's gross!" Azula's stomach churned. 

"Yeah, that's what Huma's family said. Poor thing had to move to the barn." Miri La sighed. "But I must say, it's hard to bear her stink." 

A thud coming from the backyard startled Azula; she rapidly turned her head towards the window. Outside, a dark-haired man wearing a khaki uniform and jackboots stood with his legs apart in front of a chopping block, holding an ax in his only hand. Azula shivered, looking at the blade glistening in the sun. The man took a swing and two halves of a split log fell to the ground. 

"I want to talk to Lee," the princess said, turning to the villager. 

The woman stopped at the door. "Your brother-in-law? Well, you'll have to wait for that. He left three days ago saying he has some urgent business in Ba Sing Se." Azula closed her eyes, feeling a tightening sensation in her chest; the door creaked and slammed. 

The princess pulled up her sweaty bedgown and with a trembling hand lifted the yellow bandage. Her eyes welled up with tears, blurring her vision; the right side of her swollen abdomen was one big patch of sleazy brown and black blisters. She squeezed her eyes shut; her entire life was an unending series of betrayals and humiliations and now, on top of that, she became hideous. A true monster, as her mother would say, both on the inside and on the outside. She began to shake, sobbing uncontrollably. Her cry turned into a howl and then into a wheeze. 

It took her an eternity to catch her breath; her nose was running and she was drooling like a stupid baby. She wiped her face with the blanket, leaving an ugly stain on the rough fabric; someone was walking back and forth outside the room. After a timid knock, the door cracked open a little. The squeak of leather boots went away and came close. Finally, the pathetic peasant-commissioner walked inside with a cup in his hand, filling the room with a familiar herbal scent. 

"You've lost a lot of blood, you should hydrate," he said, putting the cup on the nightstand; his green eyes lingered on Azula's face. He reached to the pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. 

The princess turned her face away. "I don't need your pity," she said with contempt. 

"I know. I was once in a similar place." He put the handkerchief on the nightstand. "Listen, if there is anything that I can do to make you feel better..." 

Azula's blood boiled. "You know nothing," she snapped, turning rapidly to him. "And you can't do a damn thing, neither do I. My miserable life will never change." 

"Yes, nothing will ever change," he said calmly. Azula froze with her mouth half-open; she had been expecting some comforting nonsense. The Commissioner raised his outstretched hand and began to declaim. 

_Yes, nothing will ever change,  
the world will remain the same,  
covered in snowy splendor,  
and suspiciously tender,  
the world will stay false alas,  
the world will last forever,  
understandable - perhaps,  
it's still endless, however.  
And therefore there is no sense,  
to believe in self or fate.  
And therefore all that is left,  
is to blindly move ahead.  
The Earth will embrace each night,  
the Earth will bath in sunlight,  
fertilized by dead soldiers,  
accepted by the poets. _

Azula sniffled. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

The Commissioner rubbed the back of his neck and glanced towards the door. "Well, I guess _The Tale of the Two Kings_ was a far better choice." 

" _The Tale of the Two Kings_?" Azula's cheeks were burning with humiliation. "It was really happening, it was you..." She slouched and put her hand to her forehead. 

"There's nothing to be ashamed of. When I was in the field hospital I would have given anything for my mother to come and read to me." The Commissioner smiled sadly and pushed his round, wire-rimmed spectacles to the bridge of his nose. "I would give anything for it even now." 

Azula crossed her arms on her chest. "That's pathetic." 

He shrugged and moved towards the door. "I will be in my office if you need anything. Maybe you would like something to read?" Azula slowly nodded; everything was better than being alone with her thoughts. "Unfortunately, I don't have anything on the Fire Nation's military history and from more recent publications I can offer you only Kuvira's Manifesto, but I suppose it's outside your range of interests." 

"On the contrary," she said, raising her chin. "I don't know where the assumption that I'm some narrow-minded fanatic came from, but it's offending me." It truly was; the great ruler couldn't be narrow-minded, she had to know the enemy from the inside out. 

The Commissioner smiled, put his hand on his chest, and bowed gracefully. "I wouldn't dare to make such an assumption, but still, I offer my deepest apologies. Kuvira's Manifesto it is, then." 

It was a bad choice, the Manifesto was heavy in style, as could be expected from the Earth peasants, and made Azula drowsy. She spent more time sleeping and drinking the refills of the herbal abomination than reading. In the evening the amount of liquid that she had drunk took its toll. Sweating and panting, the princess crawled out of the squeaky bed and plodded towards her bag. 

When she returned to the room, she felt as exhausted as if she just had made an expedition to Omashu and Ba Sing Se and not to the stinking latrine and washing basin placed in the kitchen. Ultimately, however, it was a small victory over her weak body. She got rid of the humiliating diaper, washed her face, and hid the dao swords in her bed, which made her feel an order of magnitude calmer. Her eyelids became extremely heavy. She looked at the straw mattress on the floor and the shaft of light under the door and her consciousness drifted away. 

***

When Azula opened her eyes and looked out the window, the orange light shined at the woodpile and the latrine. The straw mattress was empty and for a moment she wondered what time of day it was, but soon a rooster announced the dawn with its excruciating crowing. Azula glanced with hatred and disgust at the latrine and carefully got out of bed. She was still surprised at how important the abdominal muscles were. Of course, she knew their role in the proper execution of Katas and hand combat, but she had no idea how crucial they were in the process of pressing the door handle. 

The princess was about to leave the cottage when a sound of sloshing water came from the kitchen. Without much consideration, she walked inside, met by the smell of fried eggs, turned towards the left corner, and froze. Bare-chested Commissioner, bent over the basin, was splashing himself with water. His back, covered with water drops, was lit by the warm, orange rays of the dawn sun; he was slender but muscular. His left arm ended below the scarred elbow. 

The Commissioner straightened, looked at her reflection in the mirror, and turned sideways, hiding his left side. "You woke up early today," he said, grabbing the towel. He wiped his chest, put on the upper part of his uniform, and approached her, frowning. "Your face is flushed, may I check your temperature?" Azula stood still; the Commissioner put his hand on her forehead and their eyes met. Suddenly, he glanced away and made a step back, looking flustered. "I have to go out for a few hours, so...make yourself at home. I left you breakfast," he said pointing to the table and quickly left the kitchen. Azula looked in the small, square mirror, weirdly disturbed. 

The rest of her day was the copy of the previous one, except that in the late afternoon she felt better. She decided to inspect Commissioner's so-called office – the room in the size of her mansion's broom closet – taking the advantage of his absence. Despite serving in the People's Army, he surely wasn't an ordinary peasant or factory worker. On the other hand, he wasn't much of a threat either, but forewarned was forearmed. First, she inspected his peculiar book rack: classical literature, prose, poetry, works on history, philosophy, and cultures were all jumbled up on the shelves. The chaotic arrangement of books and scrolls or rather complete lack of thereof was reprehensible but other than that she didn't found anything noteworthy. 

Next, she sat behind the sturdy desk and looked over the sheets of papers spread over its top. Half of the sheets were covered in ornamental glyphs of the Old Language; she had never learned it, considering it a waste of time, but she was able to recognize it. The other half was full of strikethroughs and notes made on the margins. On one of the sheets, she spotted familiar names and raised her eyebrows; it was nothing other than _The Tale of the Two Kings_ , or rather its translation from the Old Language. She immersed herself into reading, forgetting about the inspection, and almost missed the creak of the front door. The Commissioner, all covered in dust, with a bag slung over his shoulder, stood at the threshold of the office and leaned against the door frame. 

"Are you interested in the Commissioner position?" he asked with a tired smile. "You seem like a good fit and I would gladly get rid of it." 

"And what would you do instead? Translations of obscure tales from the Old Language?" Azula asked with a smirk. "Actually, it sounds like a typical occupation of working class member." 

The Commissioner slowly put his bag on the floor. "With all due respect, how would you know what is typical for the working class?" Azula raised her chin and narrowed her eyes. "Don't worry, you're safe here, but judging from your speech pattern and posture it's clear to me that you're an aristocrat." He approached the desk and looked at the sheet of paper in her hand. "Did you find it interesting?" 

"Why is there an empty space here?" she asked, pointing to the middle of the sheet. 

He grabbed the chair, sat down beside her, and took a sheet in his hand, furrowing his eyebrows. "I'm not sure about this part. If you translate it literally, it would mean that King Filo cleverly used the moth's wing, but King Ze outsmarted him, replying with the wasp's sting. It doesn't make much sense in the context of the great battle between the two armies." 

"Of course it does," Azula said with superiority. "The butterfly's wing and the wasp's sting are the names of the ancient combat maneuvers." 

Commissioner's eyes went round; he gaped and then he grinned, staring at the sheet of paper with excitement. "It was bugging me for weeks," he said and looked at Azula. "You're brilliant, you know that?" 

"I do," she replied firmly, but couldn't help a small smile. "Speaking of which, I've noticed several typos." 

"You have a good eye," he said appreciatively. "Do you have any other remarks?" 

Azula rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Well, part of the military vocabulary that you use is far too modern for that era. Also, some sentences could be more concise." 

The Commissioner, so far calm and reserved man, began to look like an excited child. "Would you mind reviewing the whole translation?" 

The princess looked at the sheets and shrugged. "I guess I could do that, maybe it will prevent my brain from decay while my body is rotting." 

"Your brain is far from decay and your body is healing at an astonishing pace, according to Miri La. Which reminds me, you must be hungry." He stood up and gestured towards the kitchen. 

Azula sat behind the table and the man crouched before the furnace, opening the charred metal door with a loud crack. 

"And what's your take on Kuvira's Manifesto?" he asked, putting the wood into the stove. 

"First of all, your leader isn't blessed with a clear style, to say at least. Secondly, it's complete and utter nonsense." 

"Is it?" The Commissioner lit a piece of birch bark, shoveled it under a woodpile, and closed the stove door. 

Azula looked at him from above. "Peasants are unable to wield power, even if they share it with one another, it corrupts their weak spirits. Only superior individuals, born with the divine right to rule, can handle the burden of power." 

"Are you talking about such paragons of morality as Fire Lord Sozin, who committed the genocide of the Air Nomads and staged a bloodbath in the Earth Kingdom?" he asked and sat across from her, gazing at her intently. 

"Sozin's intention was to spread the prosperity and progress of the Fire Nation, but the other nations were too inferior to recognize it and responded with an attack. Still, Fire Lord Sozin managed to unify a large part of the Earth under his enlightened rule and he will be remembered forever for that." 

The Commissioner shook his head. "The only things that Sozin and his army spread were violence and venereal diseases. But even if it was prosperity and progress, I'd be careful with such long term as forever, take as an example our kings Ze and Filo." 

"What do you mean? They're fictional characters," Azula said, raising her eyebrows. 

"Not necessarily. This tale was discovered quite recently and I'm not aware of any archaeological findings supporting it, but more often than not, such tales are based on historic events. I don't deny that history is written by the victors, but in a thousand years Fire Lord Sozin may become a fictional character as well and in ten thousand years he will be forgotten." He paused and looked towards the window. "In the long perspective, any human life is an insignificant glimpse." 

Azula followed his gaze to the piece of starry sky looming behind the kitchen window, put her elbows on the table, and rested her chin on her hands. "That's depressing. If you can't be truly remembered then what's the purpose?" 

"Of life? Well, there isn't any. It's a purely random process." 

She snorted. "Now, that's ridiculous. If so, what should one do?" 

"I'm not in a position to speak for everyone. As for me, I just live, trying not to make myself and others more miserable than is necessary." 

Azula tilted her head. "Interesting. And how's that working out for you?" 

He snickered and looked her in the eye. "Not very well, to be honest. But I can at least make us less hungry, it seems that the stove has warmed up." 

***

Black shadows, cast by two dragons circling in the orange air, ran across Zuko's body; her brother was lying limp on the ground. She was jerking her body wildly, kneeling on the storm drain, but the silver chain wrapped around her wrists held her back. 

"You have to come home with me," the Blue Dragon said in Ursa's voice, without moving its lips. 

"Why? Why are doing this to me?" Azula shouted. 

The Blue Dragon dragon opened its maw and breathed a stream of blue fire at her. She screamed and squeezed her eye shut, turning her head back. When she opened her eyes, she wasn't at the Palace anymore. She was standing under a canopy of stalactites, ankle-deep in a pool of azure water, surrounded by peculiar rock formations. In the corner of her eye, she noticed a glimpse of blue light and turned left. The wall of the cavern was covered in ornamental glyphs of the Old Language; in the middle of them, fire symbol enclosed in a triangle glowed in blue. Azula made a step towards the wall and heard a low growl behind her back. 

"Your weakness disgusts me," hissed the voice of her father; she felt the sting of shame. 

The cavern faded away and she was again kneeling on the storm drain, tied like a pathetic calf passively waiting for the slaughter. The Blue Dragon disappeared and the Red Dragon bared his fangs in a mocking smile, hovering over Zuko's body. Suddenly, Azula heard a distant scream and looked around; the Palace began to fade. 

The princess opened her eyes; she was lying in a dark room, covered with sweat. It was the Commissioner who was screaming; he was tossing on his straw mattress on the floor with his eyes shut. 

"Wake up," Azula said, but he didn't react. She sighed, crawled out of her bed gritting her teeth, and kneeled next to him. "Wake up," she said again, shaking his arm. 

The Commissioner opened his eyes wide and gasped. Looking at her, he threw himself back and covered his head with his arm as if he was shielding himself against an attack. 

"Calm down, you're not in danger," she said, raising her hands. 

He finally recognized her and buried his face in his hand. "I'm sorry you had to witness that," he said quietly; his breath was still uneven. 

Azula stood up, wincing. "Don't be." She sat on her bed and looked towards the window. "You woke me from my own nightmare." 

He untangled himself from the sheets and stood up. "I need to get some air. Would you like to join me?" 

The village felt vastly different under a starry sky and the crescent of the moon; all the cottages were quiet and dark-windowed. The cool, manure-scented air was filled with the chirps of the crickets, occasionally outshouted by barking dogs. They passed the puddle stretching in front of the door and sat on the wooden bench in the front yard. The cold breeze blew over them and Azula shivered; she still hadn't regained her ability to regulate body temperature. 

She looked at the Commissioner; he sat motionless, staring at the ground. "Is it because of the war?" she asked. 

He stood up and moved towards the house. "I'll be right back." He returned with a blanket in his hand and a bottle of moonshine under his left arm. "Take this," he said, sitting on the bench. She reluctantly took the heavy blanket and wrapped herself with it. "Surely you heard about Rough Rhinos trial." 

Azula crossed her arms on her chest. "What trial? Rough Rhinos were war heroes, responsible for tracking countless unregistered earthbenders." 

"Do you know what those _heroes_ were doing to villages hiding the earthbenders?" 

"Of course I do. They were sending the villagers, as all the prisoners of war, to the Fire Nation prisons." 

The Commissioner took a sip of moonshine and looked ahead. "Maybe on paper. In reality, Rhinos were slaughtering defenseless people and later throwing them in mass graves, some of them still alive. Once, my scouting party found such grave, just a few hours after the Rhinos had left..." He paused for a longer time, drinking from the bottle. "After that and after the battle of Bian Wu I have this recurring dream," he finally said in a quiet voice. "I'm buried in a mass grave, surrounded by massacred bodies, suffocating, digging my way up using the last strength. Once I reach the soil covering the grave, I try to earthbend, but at this moment I'm realizing I have no arms." 

Azula shuddered and wrapped herself tighter in the blanket. They were silent for a while. "May I?" she finally asked, reaching for the bottle. 

"Sure," he replied, passing her the moonshine. Then he frowned. "How come you don't know anything about Rhinos' war crimes? Their trial was a high-profile case." 

The princess took a big sip of the burning liquid; she felt warmer and lighter. "Just before the end of the War, I was...sent away. I've spent the last five years of my life isolated from the world." 

"That explains a lot," he said, sighing. "How old are you really?" 

"Almost twenty," she replied and he shook his head with disbelief. 

For a while they stared at the crooked fence. Azula drank more of the burning liquid and rested her head against the wall, feeling numb. "When you were talking about your mother, did you mean that..." 

"She's gone. She died many years ago, during the siege of Omashu." 

Azula raised her finger. "That's impossible, the Fifth Army didn't even enter the city." 

The Commissioner leaned down and glanced at the ground. "They didn't have to. All the roads leading to the city were blocked and one-third of us starved to death. I only survived because my mother was giving me her rations." Azula looked away. 

"My mother is also dead, most likely," she said after some time. 

He raised his head. "Most likely?" 

"I'm fairly sure she's dead, but I don't have any proofs. Probably, she also made a sacrifice. It wasn't about me, though, she would be relieved if something had happened to me then. She did it to protect my...sister." 

"I'm sorry." 

Azula shrugged. "I don't care, Commissioner." 

"Please, call me Asa," he said, extending his hand. 

"Avra," she replied, shaking his hand. 

"Is the man who came with you really married to your sister?" he asked; Azula nodded. "I've never heard of a marriage between a Fire Nation aristocrat and someone of the Water Tribe origins, they have to be an extraordinary couple." 

She snorted. "They're more extraordinary than you can imagine." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem is not mine, it's my translation of (the part of) Joseph's Brodsky's "Pilgrims".


	9. Reverberations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for brief mention of sexual assault.

An amazing, vivid, colorful dream ended up abruptly, killed by a vicious mosquito's sting. To avenge it, Sokka took a mighty swing and clapped his clammy forehead. A discontented buzzing moved away from his head and hid somewhere in the sultry darkness of the bedroom. The Water tribesman pulled the silk sheet down and sighing, scratched his bare chest. It was one of those Ember Island's sweltering nights when everyone was willing to trade freedom from insects for just the slightest movement of air. Their bedroom balcony door was no exception: both of its massive wings were wide open, letting in the faint night breeze, cheerful chirps of cicadas, and the obnoxious mosquitoes. 

Sokka stretched his arms and raised his head, realizing that the other side of the enormous bed was empty. Zuko stood still on the balcony, resting his hands against the ornamental railing, with his head hung down. If not for soft black hair spilled over his shoulders, in the moonlight his pale naked body could be mistaken for a marble statue. 

The Water tribesman leaned on his elbows, sinking in the soft mattress. "As your wisest adviser, I advise you to stop thinking about firelordy stuff and come back to bed, we're here to finally relax." The statue on the balcony didn't move. "Take me as an example: yesterday I had like seven different ideas of how to make this sweat lodge cooler, but I didn't start to work on any of them." 

"Sokka, we're not doing any more renovations," Zuko said without turning around, his raspy voice barely audible over the steady hum of the waves. "And I'm not thinking about my duties." 

"Then what could you possibly think about?" Sokka put his bare feet on the warm teak floor and stood from the bed, bending his neck under the ferociously red muslin canopy. 

"The time spent here with my family." 

The Water tribesman silently stepped out into the clear night, inhaling the salty breeze coming from the calm sea. He approached his motionless boyfriend from behind and clung to his back, putting his arms around Zuko's sculpted waist; firebender's skin was pleasantly cool. "You aren't a fan of sleeping, are you?" 

"It's not like that...not all of my memories are like that," he replied quietly and Sokka tightened his embrace around him. "Do you see that flat rock over there?" Zuko asked, pointing towards the strip of the private beach lapped by the tranquil tides. 

"The one that looks like a giant komodo rhino steak?" 

Zuko chuckled softly. "One day, during our summer here, my parents, Lu Ten, Azula, and I went to see _Love amongst the Dragons_. Later we had chocolate tart at Chei's bakery and then we went to the beach. Azula and I reenacted the final duel of the play, using that rock as a stage. My parents were sitting over there, under a big umbrella, smiling all the time. Lu Ten convinced Azula to be the Dark Water Spirit and let me be the Dragon Emperor. It was one of the happiest days of my life." 

Sokka looked at the wet rock shimmering in the moonlight in disbelief. "You didn't tell me that Lu Ten had supernatural powers." 

"He didn't, but you could say that he was Azula's first firebending teacher. She was constantly asking him to show her new Katas. Uncle says that for some time she looked up to Lu Ten and even mimicked his mannerisms, which was adorable." 

The Water tribesman turned his head towards his boyfriend's still face. "Only your crazy uncle could describe Azula as _adorable_." 

"She wasn't always the way she is now," Zuko said gloomily, looking at the ripples laving the dark sand. Somewhere in the trees below them, a nightingale began to sing. 

"You mean murderous or insane?" 

Zuko sighed and leaned against Sokka. "I hate this, but it was easier for me when she was self-assured and threatening. Looking at her now, broken and hopeless, is... I feel I'm failing her and therefore I'm failing my mom." 

Sokka spun him around, firmly holding his hands on Zuko's shoulders, and looked him in the face. The golden, slightly ringed eyes were filled with guilt. "Are you kidding me? You did a lot to help Azula, much more than she deserved," he said, glancing at the star-shaped scar covering the pale chest. "Your mom would be proud of you. Considering all the shit that happened, you're the best big brother in the world." Zuko's lips quirked upwards in a barely perceptible smile. "Well, maybe the second-best." 

"Good thing I have such a role model to look up to," Zuko said and his eyes strayed to Sokka's naked body. 

"You're welcome. Now, what would you say to reenacting some missing scenes from _Love amongst the Dragons_?" Sokka run his hands down Zuko's back and pulled firebender's significantly warmer body close. "You can be whoever you want." 

***

"I failed you. All of you," Sokka said, slouching and staring at the flickering flame of the campfire. 

The only response was the ribbit of the frog squirrels. Instead of sleeping, the Water Tribesman was sitting on the damp ground in front of his tent, surrounded by a cold, smelly fog coming from the nearby swamp. The dark sky above him was covered with clouds obscuring Yue's face. He had failed Yue. He had failed his people during the invasion. He had failed Zuko. And now, however strange it sounded, he had failed Azula. 

Sokka pulled his legs up to his chin, wrapped his arms around it, and looked at the crescent of the moon, faintly shining behind the ragged clouds. This time he was going to make it right. He should reach Ba Sing Se in less than a week. Iroh surely was preparing to lead an army of White Lotus members, associates, and whoever he could recruit to take over the Fire Nation. Possibly, Azula would have to wait a little bit longer for him. Of course, if she was still... 

***

Azula clapped her hands loudly. "Begone, you filthy pig!" 

A fetid pig hen scurried away, cackling and splashing the muddy puddle. The princess leaned back on the rickety bench and scratched her sore abdomen through the coarse tunic. _How much longer is this going to take?_ It was well in the afternoon and the face of Agni was descending towards the green hills enclosing the narrow valley. Its rays, filtered by the clump of young birches growing along the fence, dabbled the scarce grass and the old wooden well with bright spots. The sound of approaching voices heralded the peasants returning from the fields to eat their meager dinner. 

Azula carefully stood up from the bench, turned to the grimy window, and squinted inside. Asa perched on the edge of the decrepit desk, gesticulating with his ink-stained hand. His head was slightly tilted back, as it used to be when he was explaining something. Filthy children of various sizes sat crossed-legged on the floor in three uneven rows, perking their stupid heads up and staring at him vapidly. The Commissioner spotted Azula and flashed her a smile; she frowned and sat down on the bench. When she had found out that one of his duties was to teach peasant children once a week, she had been amused, but now she grew irritated. 

Unexpectedly, the evenings spent together working on the translation had become something she looked forward to. Their discussions of the text often branched off into disputes on history, politics, and philosophy, lasting well into the night. At these moments, Azula felt like she was back at the Academy and those had been the best years of her life. Only back then, she rarely could find a worthy opponent. _How did someone like him end up here?_ She was consumed with curiosity. So far, the Commissioner had been skillfully deflecting all her attempts to find out more about his past. 

The door banged and the pack of wild children darted to the road, screaming their heads off. They were followed at a distance by a barefoot little girl clutching a scroll to her chest; the girl glanced at the princess with interest. 

"I need a few minutes," Asa said, sitting down beside Azula. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. The frames of his spectacles glistened in the late sun. 

The princess pointed towards the barefoot girl, who scampered behind the birches. "What's wrong with that one? Why is it separated from the others? Is it sick or something?" 

He gave her a disapproving look and turned his head towards the girl. "Ikari, come here, please!" 

The black-haired girl was back in a flash. She tossed her thin braid over her shoulder and stood to attention. Her emaciated body was drowning in a worn, patched tunic with rolled sleeves. "Yes, comrade Commissioner?" 

"Why don't you show comrade Avra what you've learned last week?" he asked gently. 

The girl nodded ferociously and passed him the scroll. She rolled her sleeves even more and turned sideways with an intent expression. Then she clenched her fists in front of her, made a few steps forward, and kicked, releasing a puny beam of fire from her feet. It was more than Azula could create at the moment, but it was still pathetic. 

"That's the clumsiest execution of this Kata that I've ever seen," the princess said with disdain; the Commissioner shot her a scowl. 

The girl's eyes went wide and suddenly she grinned. "Comrade Avra, you're a firebender too!" The girl was almost dancing with excitement. "Will you teach me how to execute it properly? I can..." She knitted her dark eyebrows and bit her lip, fighting some internal battle. "I can give you my Kuvira's portrait in exchange," she finally said with a deadly serious and slightly sad expression. 

Asa's features relaxed into a soft smile. "Comrade Avra will consider your generous offer. Now go home, they won't wait on you for dinner." 

"Aye, comrade Commissioner!" The girl saluted, grabbed the scroll, and scurried back to the road. 

A distant sound of cowbells was becoming closer and closer. Soon, the old, dried-up shepherd followed by his dried-up herd approached the fence. Passing by, he raised his hand and the Commissioner waved back. Suddenly, the monstrous, fuzzy dog charged at Azula, waggling its tail wildly. She moved away from the animal with disgust, scooting towards the Commissioner. The shepherd whistled and the slobbery monster took a sharp turn, sprinkling them with the drops of saliva. 

"Where did that child come from?" Azula asked when the last antelope cow dropped out of sight. 

Asa waved his hand theatrically. "The Fire Nation army, spreading progress and prosperity at its finest." 

"Rape is forbidden by the Fire Nation's military law." 

"Tell that to Ikari's father, if he's still alive." 

Azula tilted her head and sneered. "Anyway, how can you criticize Sozin's propaganda, when you're the one who's asking little girls to salute you?" 

"I didn't ask her to do that." He sighed and run his hand through his hair. "You need to understand, she's an outcast and an orphan, working in the fields for food. Kuvira became for her something between an imaginary friend and a mother figure." He lowered his eyes. "And once, Ikari sneaked into my office and stole the Manifesto." 

The princess spat with contempt. "A child couldn't possibly plow through more than one page of that bore." 

"She's very bright. Besides, for her, the new political system is actually better. She learned to read and write and she has a chance to get a proper education." 

"So now you're an apologist of Kuvira's regime?" 

"I'm not, but I agree with some of her postulates. You see, it's not an inherent weakness of the spirit that makes the life of peasants miserable, it's the weakness of the state." 

Azula shook her head and fixed her gaze on Miri La, who strode along the dusted road in the last rays of the sun. Of course, that woman's day would be incomplete without dropping in at least once to share the gossips about people that Azula had never met. Miri La passed the creaky gate and hovered over them, holding a bulky pot in her hands. 

"So, are you prepared?" the woman asked. Asa looked at her in confusion and she glowered at him. "Don't tell me you forgot." 

He hunched his shoulders. "About?" 

The woman's hands tightened on the pot. "The reunion with your army pals, they're coming tomorrow!" Asa gasped and clutched at his head. "Spirits help us, with such Commissioner. I have no words for this man," Miri La said, looking at the darkening sky. "You finish all your things and I'll tidy the kitchen." She unceremoniously entered the house, mumbling something under her breath. 

The Commissioner rubbed the back of his neck. "We'll have to explain to them why you're here. They're decent, but it will be safer for everyone if they don't know the truth." 

Azula shrugged. "I guess the most plausible explanation would be that we're in some sort of a romantic relationship," she said indifferently, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

He shook his head and chuckled. "I'm not so sure about that, we should think of something more believable." 

"Why?" she asked and something in her chest stuttered. 

"The probability that someone like you would come here to live with me is extremely low." 

The princess furrowed her brow. "You mean someone from the Fire Nation?" 

He took off his spectacles and gazed at her with an odd expression on his face. "I mean a highly-intelligent, well-read, beautiful woman." 

A rush of warmth spread through Azula's body. All of a sudden, she realized how close together they were sitting. She could see the minuscule red mark on the bridge of his nose, left by the spectacles, and the tiny creases at the corners of his wistful eyes. "Actually, I appreciate certain aspects of being here," she said and his face brightened. Azula crossed her arms on her chest. "Although your house is an abomination and your cooking is terrible." 

"Feel free to cook yourself," he said, barely containing a smile. Then he stood up and smoothed down his uniform. "Very well then, we're officially engaged. Now excuse me, but I have to do some errands. I'm afraid we have to cancel our work session." 

Azula remained alone on the bench, feeling empty. Commissioner's words were still reverberating in the evening air, resurrecting the words of Ty Lee – _you're the most beautiful, smartest, perfect girl in the world_ – followed by a bitter constatation of how much such declarations were worth. At least back then the traitor's words had been true. Now, of course, Azula's intellect was still superior, but she definitely wasn't beautiful. She touched her face. The last five years took its toll on her looks; her skin was sallow and she had dark circles under her eyes. Dull, short hair was making her even more hideous. The princess barely could stand looking in the mirror. 

Suddenly, Azula heard a rustle coming from the birches. The little black-haired girl stared at her from behind a white trunk, kicking her heels. 

Azula straightened. "Shouldn't you be at home?" she asked sharply. 

"I should, comrade Avra." the girl replied, fidgeting with her dirty hands. "But I really would like to know how to execute that Kata properly." 

***

The Uprising's leaders had made great promises: to tear down the walls within Ba Sing Se and to erase the differences between the rings. So far, they had succeeded only partially, through exporting the squalor and misery of the Lower Ring to the upper ones. Down here, things had stayed the same. Sure, peddlers were replaced by profiteers and emerald uniforms turned into khaki uniforms, but it was the same old Lower Ring. The crippled beggars languished in the shadows of the ratty houses while scrawny kids were selling their bodies for scraps. Did any of them know they were now free from the oppression of tyrants? 

In a hurry, Sokka squeezed between a ramshackle facade and a log cart, pulled by three barefoot men bent in half. For a moment the scent of resin and wood won over the eye-watering aromas of the Lower Ring. The Water tribesman sighed with relief and spat on the ground, clearing the dust from his mouth; he was almost there. The side alley, where the tea shop was located, was relatively quiet, except for a steady tapping of a chisel coming from a lone old craftsman sitting on the ground. Sokka looked absently at rough-hewn shoes surrounding the old-timer and entered the dim interior of the shabby tea shop. 

Only two of the few not very clean tables were occupied, but Sokka saw a familiar face. The boy in the factory uniform, who had delivered Toph the message, was sitting near the bar with a sullen expression. His head was wrapped in a yellowish bandage, caked with dried blood. The unfortunate messenger was glancing at the bartender, but the girl with the shaved sides didn't pay attention to him. She stood behind the bar with a bored face, wiping the cups with a dingy cloth. 

Sokka approached her. "Is the old man around?" 

"And who's asking?" The bartender didn't even look up. 

"His old Pai Sho partner," Sokka said. The girl raised her head and looked at him expectantly. He rolled his eyes, took the white lotus tile out of his pocket, and turned it in his hand. The bartender jerked her head towards the kitchen. 

The Water Tribesman entered the cramped kitchen and cleared his throat. Iroh turned away from the brass basin, put the wet cup away with a clank, and wiped his hands on his stained apron. 

"It's a great relief to see you alive, my boy," he said, embracing Sokka; the old man was soaked with the smell of the Lower Ring. "We couldn't get any information about you after Yu Dao." 

"Do you know anything about Zuko?" Sokka asked with a pounding heart when Iroh finally released him. 

The Dragon of the West hung his head, devoid of his usual top knot. "As far as I know my nephew is fine." Then he glanced towards the bar and gestured to another door. "It would be better if we talk inside." 

Entering the windowless supply closet, filled with the smell of mold and jasmine tea, Sokka bent his neck. Iroh approached a table, wedged between tow sacks piled up against the walls, and with a flick of his hand lit a candle. The flickering light revealed a pai sho board with an unfinished game set up on it. Sokka huddled on a stool across from Iroh, as if he was going to play with him. 

Iroh clasped his hands on his slimmed-down stomach. "And what about my dear niece? Did she choose to go her own way?" 

Sokka sighed and told him what had happened to them. 

"I'm sure my niece will pull through fine, she never gives up, just like her brother." 

The Water tribesman nodded vaguely. "I hate to be the bearer of even more bad news, but there's a peasants uprising brewing in Ban Bi Chu." 

Iroh's face was motionless. "I'm well aware of this." 

_Of course._ Sokka shifted in his stool and tapped his fingers on the table. "So, what's the plan to overthrow the generals and when do we start?" 

"We wait for the right time to act." 

"We do what?" Sokka tensed. "We're on the edge of a fucking war and your entire plan is to wait?" 

"The resistance movement in the Fire Nation is yet too small in number. And there's an urgent issue that we have to address first." 

"For fuck's sake, what can be more urgent than helping Zuko?!" Sokka knocked the pai sho board off the table and jumped to his feet, overturning the stool; the tiles scattered over the floor with a clatter. Iroh didn't even flinch. "What did I expect from you? You're the man who let Ozai burn off half of Zuko's face," Sokka shouted and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. 

The Water tribesman ran outside the tea shop, flopped on the dirty ground, and buried his face in his hands, shaking. Soon, Iroh joined him, sitting cross-legged to his left. The minutes slowly ticked by, to the steady rhythm of the tapping chisel. 

Finally, Sokka spoke, looking at the ground. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that. It's because... I feel I failed him, just like I've failed almost everyone in my life." 

Iroh squeezed Sokka's shoulder with his hand. "You truly fail only if you stop trying." The Water tribesman noticed the pain hidden underneath the calmness. "And unfortunately, your words weren't unfounded, I have many regrets concerning my nephew. Believe me, I want nothing more in the world than to see him again, but..." Iroh looked around. "We'd better get inside." 

They went back to the tea shop. Sokka picked up the pai sho tiles off the floor. Meanwhile, Iroh made two cups of jasmine tea. 

The old man sat on the stool, holding a steaming cup in his hands. "From what we've learned so far, Kuvira is exploiting the spirit portal to create a powerful weapon. We should know more details when miss Beifong gets back from her mission." 

Sokka almost dropped his cup. "You can't be serious, Toph is a kid!" 

"Don't worry, young miss Beifong is more than capable," Iroh said with a tiny smile. But his smile soon vanished. "Regarding the weapon, if my concerns are confirmed, it will be a deadly threat not only to the Fire Nation but to the entire world. Kuvira can unleash the forces far beyond her control." 

A chill went down Sokka's spine. He put the cup on the table and straightened. "So, how do we stop her?" 

"We can't. We can merely slow her down. Only the Avatar possess the power to stop this once and for all, by closing the portal. " 

Sokka hung his head and looked at the board. It had been over a year and they still hadn't found a cure for Aang's condition, despite all the desperate attempts to help him. Azula was right when... "Azula!" 

"Excuse me?" For the first time, Iroh looked genuinely surprised. 

Sokka told him what had happened in the Forbidden Zone. "I'm sure that Azula also had some vision, but she didn't want to talk." The old man nodded. "I'm not an expert in a spiritual mumbo-jumbo, but this can't be a coincidence." 

Iroh stroke his beard thoughtfully. "Indeed." 


	10. Spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for suicide-related content.  
> The lyrics and the quote are not mine.

Splitting headache, pounding like the Fire Army marching through the plains of the Earth Kingdom in full armor. Nausea. Stomach contents stirring like the roaring sea. Parched tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. A scratchy fabric under her cheek. Her body pressed against something warm. Something heavy surrounding her shoulders. An arm? 

Azula's heart skipped a beat. With a great effort, she lifted her heavy eyelids and the light stormed into her eyes, exploding in her brain. The blurry vision gradually sharpened, revealing an arm resting near her face. An arm in a khaki sleeve, tied in a knot on the elbow level. She looked around without moving her sore head; spinning surroundings slowly began to make sense. 

She was in the Spirits forsaken village, in Commissioner's wretched house, in his narrow bed turned into her bed. For some reason, he was there too and they were both wearing their clothes and boots. Azula was clinging to him, pressing her cheek against his chest and gripping his waist with her arm. He was on his back, his right arm wrapped around her shoulder, his rib cage rising and falling steadily. The princess let out a hoarse groan as the memories of the day before began to resurface. 

***

A cadaverous face framed by the veil of lusterless hair was staring at Azula from above the basin. Without taking eyes off her reflection, the princess approached the tarnished mirror, cleft by a vertical crack. Frowning, she pulled up part of her short hair into a little ponytail, leaving two tendrils to fall at the sides of her face, like in the good old days. Her splintered reflection winced; Azula looked like a mockery of her former self. But hearing squeaky leather boots briskly approaching the kitchen, she put on an indifferent face. At the last moment before another face appeared in the mirror, to the left of the crack. 

Asa's distorted reflection gazed at her intently, his spectacles on the tip of his nose. "New hairdo?" he asked, pushing the spectacles back up. "It suits you." Then his disheveled, excited head pointed towards the hall. "Come, they've arrived," he said and left the house, leaving the door open. 

Azula approached the clothless, knotty table set for four people. The central, honorable position on the tabletop was occupied by a charred pig hen, oozing the smoky smell of roasted meat, quite uncharacteristic for this kitchen. The rest of the menu consisted of greasy sliced fatback, withered greenish salad, and black bread. The princess pursed her lips looking at the decrepit furniture and sooty walls; the servants in the Royal Palace ate richer repasts daily, in much better surroundings. She adjusted the plates and the silverware, tied her sash tighter, and moved to the hall, where she stood in the shadow, peering outside through the open door. 

In the lazy rays of the afternoon sun two brown-feathered ostrich horses, carrying two khaki-uniformed men, lumbered along the fence. Both the horses and the riders were sprinkled with the pollen blown from the blossoming birches by a gentle breeze. One of the men, tall and broad-shouldered, had a major's rank. He rode upright, proudly showing off his handsome face blessed with a strong jawline and neatly trimmed black mustache. His cap was carelessly slipped to the left side of his head or rather carefully staged to achieve that look. The other one, the hunched and sullen captain with a crooked nose, was hiding his face behind a thick beard. His shaven head was capless, exposing a cigarette tucked behind his ear. 

Uncharacteristically radiant Commissioner opened the creaky gate and stepped on the road. The tall one nimbly jumped off the horse, raising a cloud of dust, flashed his white even teeth, and pulled Asa into a tight embrace. The two men hugged affectionately, patting each other's backs. 

"You're quite early," Asa said, releasing himself from his comrade's bear grasp. 

"We couldn't wait to see your ugly mug, Specky," the bearded one said, sliding down from the worn saddle. Asa approached him, shaking his head, and they embraced each other with no less affection. 

Azula stomped outside, standing tall in front of the door with her feet set apart and her arms crossed on her chest. The newcomers almost bumped into each other at the narrow gate. Then they froze, gaping at the princess as if they saw a spirit. 

The Commissioner straightened his creased uniform and gestured towards her. "Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet my fiance, Avra," he said, turning to her and she nodded slightly. "Avra, these are my brothers in arms from the cursed 6th platoon, Rumar and Leng." 

Tall Rumar was the first to break out from the stupor. He sized Azula up and smoothed the slicked hair on the right side of his head. "How come such a dazzling creature materialized here?" he asked in a dulcet baritone and shot her a glance, surely capable of weakening the knees of primitive peasant girls. 

"Didn't Specky bore you to death yet?" bearded Leng muttered, putting a cigarette in his mouth. 

"Oh, not at all." Azula gracefully sidestepped the puddle, approached the Commissioner, and linked her arm through his. "My fiance is quite successful in entertaining me," she said, holding her chin high. Their guests exchanged amused looks. 

Bland dinner was dominated by dumb and boring questions regarding Azula. Commissioner's comrades were far less perceptive than him and the princess didn't have to make much effort to pass as a commoner, but still, it was tedious. They only changed the subject when Asa took the remains of the unfortunate pig hen from the table, leaving just the fatback, bread, and the teapot. As it turned out, Rumar had thought that Leng was in charge of bringing in the alcohol and Leng had thought that it was Rumar's task. A heated argument ensued, ending with a loud clank of the sizeable moonshine bottle, put on the table by the Commissioner. 

"Are you sure?" Rumar asked when Azula, following their example, reached for one of the empty glasses standing on the table. "It might be too strong for a delicate lady." 

"That's why you don't have to drink it, Rumar," she said with a sneer, firmly putting the glass in front of her. Leng snickered and Asa shot her a worried glance, which she ostentatiously ignored. Resigned Commissioner poured the murky liquid into five glasses. 

Rumar ceremoniously covered the extra glass with a slice of black bread and raised his own glass. "To our lovely couple, may the flame of their love burn eternal, for without love we would be lost in this world!" he exclaimed melodiously. 

Azula and Leng almost simultaneously rolled their eyes. But they raised their hands too and all four of them clinked the glasses. Not to be outdone by the others, Azula drank the entire content of the glass in one gulp. Her throat began to burn and her eyes welled up. She quickly blinked away the tears. 

"Eat this," Asa said, passing her a slice of pale fatback. 

Feeling the searing warmth spreading through her throat to her chest, she took a hefty bite of the salty, greasy fat. "Are we waiting for anyone else?" she asked, pointing at the additional glass covered with the slice of bread. 

Commissioner's face darkened. "We don't, at least not in physical form." 

"There used to be four of us at the table," Rumar said quietly, looking at the glass, his wide shoulders hunched. "The fourth one, Bushi... He never really came back from the War. I mean, none of us really did, but he..." 

"One fine morning, his kid found him hanging from the joist," Leng said, pointing to the ceiling, and tapped the ashes from his cigarette into a small bowl. 

As if at the word of command, all three soldiers fixed their broody eyes on the half-full glass of murky liquid. The air, thanks to Leng choked with the cigarette smoke, became even heavier. Azula looked through the window at the darkening sky; the alcohol coursing through her veins was making her pleasantly numb. For a while, the only sound was the sullen crackling of the fire in the furnace. 

"Let's not dwell on the past," Asa said, raising his head, and reached for the bottle to pour another round. "Tell us what's going on in the big world." 

"Nothing good," Leng muttered, lighting a cigarette. "Future looks as shitty as the past. Make the best of your time together, it won't last long." The Commissioner looked over at Rumar as if the major was the last resort. 

Rumar spread his arms helplessly. "I'm sorry guys, but it's true. Long Feng tightens the screws and Kuvira is relocating the troops from Si Wong Desert to the border. We're going back to the front, for sure," he said, glancing at Azula. 

"Why Si Wong Desert?" the princess asked, narrowing her eyes. She was slowly losing focus, but the strange location of the troops caught her attention. 

The major took a big swing and clapped his large hands together. "Kuvira smashed the remnants of Zaheer's army, hiding there." 

Azula frowned and put a finger to her heated cheek. "Wasn't he the anarchist who joined forces with Kuvira to overthrow Earth Kings?" 

Leng snickered. "It wasn't the best deal of his life, alas. But at least, we can present you the latest hit from Ba Sing Se's joints." He tapped his glass with a fork and bowed mockingly towards Rumar. "Maestro, if you please." 

Maestro sprang to his feet, briefly left the kitchen, and returned fondly holding a box-shaped peasant instrument on his chest. The instrument, hung on his shoulders by leather straps, consisted of a rickety keyboard and a buttonboard, joined by battered bellows. Rumar sat down and began to vigorously expand and compress the bellows, simultaneously traversing the keys and the buttons with his deft fingers. His instrument was slightly out of tune, but his baritone was surprisingly clear. 

_From the Ba Sing Se's jail  
Two fellows ran away,  
Two fellows ran away, to freeness.  
At the Otoyo's shop  
Two fellows made a stop,  
Two fellows made a stop, to get rest. _

_One, a people's hero,  
Old Zaheer's guerrilla,  
Had no luck to make it in one piece.  
Clad in the bandages,  
Heated-up with the guzzle,  
He lay down with such song on his lips: _

_Comrade, oh dear Comrade,  
My wounds hurt so badly,  
My wounds hurt so badly, deep inside,  
The first one is healing,  
The next is festering,  
And the last one opened in my side. _

_For what were we fighting?  
For what were we suffering?  
For what were we spilling our blood?  
They're having there a feast,  
They're having there a blast,  
And we're sacrificing our sons! _

_Comrade, oh dear Comrade,  
Go and tell my mother,  
That her son perished honorably.  
Bury me in the ground,  
With a smile on my mouth,  
With a smile on my mouth, a broad one! _

Rumar energetically compressed the bellows and wiped his brow with his hand. "You don't know that one, do you?" he asked, his cheeks flushed and his eyes shining. Looking at the smile dancing on Commissioner's lips, Azula knew the answer. 

"I'm not familiar with this particular version, but the song itself dates back at least to the Second Peasant's Uprising," Asa said. 

"Damn you." Rumar smacked his instrument and the bellows groaned ruefully. 

_Splendid_. It was her chance. Azula tilted her head. "How do you know such things, my dear?" she asked sweetly. 

Rumar's eyes widened. "Wait, didn't he tell you?" 

"Ha, classic Specky!" Leng cackled and clapped his leg; the ashes from his cigarette fell on the floor. 

The smoky kitchen became quiet again. Rumar was gaping at them with bulging eyes and Leng was clearly entertained. The smile faded from Commissioner's face as he realized his mistake. 

Finally, Rumar straightened, gestured towards Asa, and looked at him like a proud mother hen. "You're going to marry the famous literature professor, the glory of the Ba Sing Se University." 

The Commissioner shook his head and waved his hand. "I'm not an academic anymore and I wasn't by any means famous. Don't listen to him." 

Azula threw her head back, overwhelmed by the joy of the puzzle pieces falling into place. Suddenly, everything made sense. Almost everything. "You left the University to join the People's Army?" she asked, raising her brow. 

"Let's say I've been successfully persuaded to do so." Asa hung his head and bore his eyes into the tabletop. 

"After the purge of the nobles" – Rumar said and Leng showed a cut-throat gesture – "everyone who had been ever drafted had to rejoin the army." 

"Or mine the coal in the North as a defector," Leng added, pointing to the south. 

The Commissioner shifted in his creaky chair and dusted off an invisible fleck from his shoulder. "That's water under the bridge," he said, avoiding Azula's gaze. "Surely, we have better things to talk about." 

"Our lips are sealed on the past, cheer up Specky," Leng said and turned to Rumar. "By the way, I didn't expect to see that puppy dog grin on his mug ever again, after he split up with Kyana." 

"I'm begging you." Asa glared at Leng; for a moment it seemed like the ground under the house trembled. 

Rumar gingerly put his instrument on the floor and cleared his throat. "Let me propose another toast..." 

***

At the memory of the throat-blazing moonshine, Azula's stomach revolted; the vomiting was inevitable. She carefully freed herself from Commissioner's embrace and glanced at him. He frowned and mumbled something in his sleep; his hair had reached a new level of unkemptness and he had his spectacles on. Trying to stand up, Azula staggered and flopped down on the edge of the bed. The bedroom began to spin faster. 

It was dawn; the first pink rays of Agni were falling onto dusted wooden chests through the closed window. Leng was sleeping on Asa's straw mattress curled up like an ugly, bearded fetus. The rest of the floor was covered by snoring Rumar, lying on his back with his arms and legs spread wide. None of them bothered or managed to get changed; the air was stifling. Azula's tunic was soaked with sweat, cigarette smoke, and half-digested alcohol. 

Without much time left, she stood up and stepped over Rumar's long legs. Sweating, she dashed through the office and the hall and stumbled outside the house, splashing the puddle. Just in time. Her stomach wrenched; she bent over, leaning against the wall, and retched on the grass, coughing and gagging. The vomit was searing her throat. 

Exhausted, she rested on the damp bench and buried her pounding head in her hands, looking away from the pieces of undigested fatback. Nausea diminished slightly. A crisp morning breeze brushed her clammy body and she shivered. Like through a fog, she remembered stumbling from the kitchen, clinging to Asa's arm as if her life had depended on it, and categorically refusing to let go of him. The princess fidgeted as a pang of shame washed over her tormented body. 

The silence of the brisk morning was broken by the squeaking of the leather jackboots. Azula's cheeks began to burn. 

Asa sidestepped the vomit, charmingly lit by the pink dawn light, and stood in front of her with a guilty look on his face. His eyes were bloodshot and his uniform was rumpled. "How do you feel?" he asked in a hoarse voice, passing her a glass of water. 

She gave him the stink eye. "Splendid, except that the last thing I remember clearly is singing... How did it go? _The vultures will devour my corpse and my wife will marry my comrade_? Anyway, everything after is a blank." 

A look of concern crept on his weary face. "I assure you, nothing inappropriate happened..." 

"Let's not talk about it," she said sharply, handing him the glass back. "I'm not touching any peasant's inventions ever again." 

Rumar and Leng left early, just after the breakfast. Azula headed straight to the bedroom. After a while of wrestling with the shabby window, the princess opened it wide, letting in the cool air. Then she wrapped herself tightly in the rough blanket and spent most of the day sleeping, dreaming tiresome dreams. Only in the late afternoon, she felt almost like a human being again. She washed and changed, but for some reason she got restless. 

After a round around the house, she strode into the office, where the Commissioner was, of course, poring over the sheets of paper with a stain of ink on his hand. Azula sat on the unsteady chair in front of him and crossed her arms on her chest. "I'm getting nauseous just looking at this damned village," she said, turning her head and glancing at the murky window. 

Asa put down the brush, took off his spectacles, and rubbed his eyes. "There's one place I go to get fresh air, but it requires some climbing," he said, looking at her stomach. 

"Excellent, let's go there," Azula said firmly. 

The afternoon rain turned the dusted village road into a muddy swamp, but at least the air had cleared. Azula mentally thanked Sokka for advising her heavy boots; they were now encrusted with mud, but her feet were dry. Outside the village, the road became slightly more solid and soon they veered off to the well-trodden path, passing a heap of freshly felled logs. The path led to the hill covered with a sparse pine forest, suffused with the gold evening sunlight. 

Azula took a deep breath in. Who would have thought that the scent of the trees and the squawking of the birds would be such a relief? Strangely, deeper in the woods, trunks of pines from the ground to the crown were wrapped with colorful ribbons and strings, giving them a festive look. Some of the ribbons were old and faded down and some were new and garish. 

"The villagers believe that the top is inhabited by a spirit," Asa explained, gesturing upwards. "They come to the forest to make wishes, leaving the ribbons, but they never enter the top. Which is a shame, because the view is ravishing." 

Azula smirked. "Aren't you afraid of the spirit, _Commissioner_?" 

"My grandfather had a saying: fear no spirits, fear people. I didn't take it to heart as a kid, but I really internalized it during the War." For a while they walked in silence, leaving the wrapped trees behind. The path began to climb steeply. "Don't you have any wishes to make?" he asked, gazing at her. 

"I wish to know why you were drafted for the first time, during the Hundred Year War. As far as I understand you were already an academic back then," she replied, looking at him intently. 

"You don't let go, do you?" he asked with resignation. Azula shook her head and he sighed. "Well, the only reason I got the education was the scholarship of the Earth King." 

"Kuei's Scholarship for the Gifted Children?" 

He looked at her surprised. "How do you know about it?" 

"I've heard that Fire Lord Zuko was interested in implementing a similar solution," she said quickly. She began to sweat; climbing the stupid hill turned out to be exhausting. 

Asa plucked an ear of the high grass and scrunched it. "In the case of Kuei's scholarship _gifted_ meant earthbending. We had to undergo officer's training and stay in the reserve. I was sent to the front near the end of the War. My _adventure_ ended after Bian Wu," he said, raising his left arm. "After the hospital, I went back to the University." 

"And you stayed there until the Uprising." 

"Then I took part in that disastrous, failed offensive in the Fire Nation colonies, and then I was sent here." 

The trees ended abruptly; they climbed the rocky top of the hill. The view was indeed ravishing, especially in the golden rays of the setting sun. The green valley was stretching as far as the eye could see, surrounded by two mountain belts, winding like two shimmering snakes. Asa gestured towards one of the rocks, strangely resembling a bench. 

"Did you earthbend a bench on the sacred mountain?" Azula asked, sitting down and resting her back against the sun-heated rock. 

"Perhaps," he replied, taking place beside her. "So, there you have it, the story of my life," he added and looked ahead at the setting face of Agni. 

"And what about that Kayna?" the princess asked indifferently, inspecting her fingernails. 

" _Love is stronger than separation, but separation is longer than love,_ " he declaimed, raising his hand. "Kyana would have to give up everything and come here to make it work. I wouldn't ask anybody to do that," he said dolefully. 

"Your whole life had been taken from you, how could you get over it?" Suddenly, deeply buried grief and anger stirred within Azula. Her vision blurred; everything that had any value had been taken away: university, relationships, dignity, power over the Fire Nation, sense of purpose, sense of self... 

He shrugged, his eyes fixed on the orange sky, his frozen profile lit by the last warm rays. "I could either make peace with it or follow in Bushi's footsteps." 

Something in his tone sobered her up. "Did you ever consider it?" she asked quietly. 

"There are moments when it seems appealing." Asa turned to her with a sharp look in his eye. "Did you?" 

The princess turned her head away, towards the face of Agni and he followed her gaze. Fanned by the cold evening breeze, they stared in silence at the setting visage of the indifferent god. Azula stole a glance at the hunched, motionless man and her heart wrenched. She reached to him and covered his ink-stained hand with hers. Without looking, he turned his hand over and their fingers intertwined. They sat like that, staring ahead until the face of Agni vanished behind the hill. 

Then he gently squeezed her palm and untangled his hand from hers. "I'm not going to the other side yet. I have a translation to finish," he said with a subtle smile. 

Azula snorted. She looked into his sharp eyes framed by the spectacles and had to resist the urge to slap her forehead. It was obvious that he was a scholar, she should have figured it out by herself; apparently, that wretched house had blinded her. Agni, even at the Royal Academy there were just a few people who knew the Old Language so well. The damned Old Language, which recently had intruded her dreams... 

Quietly cursing her aching abdomen, she bent down and picked up a twig. On the small patch of the ground in front of them, she drew the triangle with the fire mark inside. "Are you familiar with this symbol?" she asked, pointing to the drawing with the twig. Asa raised his eyebrow. "It's something that my sister recently got interested in. I would like to know what this is." 

He shook his head with disbelief. "I thought that _Kakhol Esh_ is unknown outside a small circle of scholars." The twig dropped from Azula's hand as she mouthed the familiar name. "It means _Blue Fire_ in the Old Language and it's the name of the ancient, obscure cult." 

_Blue Fire_. A chill went down Azula's spine and her tortured stomach churned, making her nauseous again. She had to take few deep breaths before speaking. "Tell me everything you know about it," she said, barely keeping her voice under control 

"That's basically all I know. I'm only familiar with _Kakhol Esh_ , because one of my colleagues, professor Zei, discovered their place of worship, a cavern located near Hira'a." 

"Hira'a in the West Zhidaru?" Azula's stomach leaped up into her throat. 

"As far as I know there is no other Hira'a," Asa said, slightly amused. Of course, there wasn't. There was only one Hira'a. The one in which her mother was born. "Zei had made a transcript of the inscriptions on the cavern's wall. I was going to help him with the translation, but I was sent to the front and he went missing." 

The princess took another deep breath in, trying to steady her stomach, and rested her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands. "What could that symbol mean?" she asked, boring her eyes into the drawing on the ground. 

"As for the fire mark, you probably know more about its symbolism than me. The triangles, unsurprisingly, often denote trinities, like past, present, and future or mind, body, and spirit. An equilateral triangle might symbolize a perfect balance between the elements of the trinity." Asa stroke his chin. "On the other hand, a triangle might represent a door or a passageway, then the fire mark could symbolize a guiding light. It's hard to tell without a context." 

"Where is the transcript now? Would you translate it?" Azula grabbed his arm. "It's extremely important to me." 

"It should be in the Ba Sing Se University and I would gladly translate it for you, but it seems that I'm going to the front soon." He clouded up. "However, I know a person who will surely help you." 

***

Something was wrong. All morning Asa had been acting peculiar. During the day that had followed, he had touched his spectacles fifty-four times and ran his hand through his hair thirty-three times, setting a new record. When in the late evening he began preparing to leave the house, Azula watched him closely, with a tight grip of suspicion on her chest. 

"Miri La asked me to help her in the barn," he said, avoiding Azula's gaze, and approached the office door. "It could take a while." 

"Don't worry, I can take care of myself," she replied from behind the desk, taking a sheet of paper in her hand. 

She waited a moment after the door closed, took her dao swords, quietly left the house, and hid behind the birches. The village was gripped with darkness; the rushing blanket of thick clouds was tightly covering the stars and the face of the Moon spirit. Strong gusts of howling wind were blowing up dust and swaying the branches of the trees. The temperature dropped significantly, but Azula didn't feel the cold as the sting of betrayal was burning inside her. The Commissioner walked through the clouds of dust, his uniform blowing in the wind, constantly looking around. 

As she had expected, he took a left turn after passing a few cottages. Now she was certain, he was going to sneak in by the back gate to take an ostrich horse from the barn. The princess rubbed her eyes, sore from the dust blown by the wind, and silently padded to the back yard. When she entered the stuffy barn, filled with a pungent smell of manure, searing pain ripped through her chest. One of the ostrich horses was saddled. Reaching over her shoulder, she hid in the dark corner of the barn. Soon, the hay rustled and the dark figure walked inside. 

"Are you going somewhere, Commissioner?" Azula asked in a steel cold voice. She stepped out of the shadow, holding the swords in her hands. Despite the rage burning her from the inside out, her face was blank. 

The traitor looked at her with wide eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics are my translation/adaptation of the song _S odesskogo kichmana_.  
>  _Love is stronger than separation..._ is a quote from _Twenty Sonnets to Mary Stewart_ by Joseph Brodski.


	11. A Death Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for referenced sexual assault

Wretched walls of the barn were swaying under the raging gale. But Azula was barely registering it as her peripheral vision narrowed. All the sounds were drowned out by the blood thumping in her ears. The world shrunk to the hay-stuffed hovel cloaked in the insidious half-light, three impassive ostrich horses, and two tense people. 

"What, are you lost for words, you treacherous peasant?" the princess asked, raising her chin. Even in the gloom she could recognize a flash of hurt crossing his shocked face, the friendly face that turned out to be a mendacious mask. But wasn't it always the case? And how could she be so stupid to expect something different from the peasant? 

"It's not what you think it is," the traitor said quietly, slowly raising his only hand, covered with a never-vanishing stain of black ink. 

She curled her lips. "Oh, I see, you spontaneously decided to take a night ride during a windstorm. Would you mind if I join you?" 

He made a step forward, standing at arm's length from her, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Listen, it has nothing to do with you. I'm trying to help the people whom I'm not allowed to help. I'll explain everything when I come back." 

"No," she said sharply. The traitor glanced towards the patch of ground, appearing and disappearing behind the swinging gate, and moved his hand slightly. "Don't even think about it," Azula hissed out, putting one of the swords to his throat. "If you want to save your life, prove your words." 

His eyes went round, but then his face went blank. "Fine," he said between clenched teeth. "But please be quiet, no one can find out about this." 

Under her watchful gaze, he angrily saddled the second ostrich horse and they went outside, into the furious gale. Leaving the yard by the back gate, they stepped into hawthorns and nettles, overgrowing the dark wastes. The bushes, lashed by the strong gusts of cold wind, swooshed loudly as they were fighting their way through, whipped by the thorny branches. Finally, the lights of the village vanished into the distance. They left the thicket, entered the familiar gravel road, and got on their horses. 

"I'm hiding a family of aristocrats," the Commissioner shouted over the wind when they approached a crossroads. It was the same crossroads where she and Sokka had took the left turn on the day when... Azula shuddered, looking at the dark, windswept forest. The Commissioner turned right, entering the path so rarely used that it was barely visible in the stormy, starless night. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Azula shouted back, brushing away hair blown into her face. 

"It's dangerous. You can be executed for providing even tangential help for the fugitive nobles." 

The vague, overgrown path was ending in a small pebbled clearing, enclosed from all sides by rocky hills. In the darkness of the night, jagged rocks resembled abandoned ruins of an ancient stronghold. Struggling against the wind, the Commissioner tied their horses to a broken birch standing lonely in the middle of the clearing. Azula took a fighting stance and watched him closely, all her muscles tensed. 

He stood in front of a massive boulder with his legs wide apart, bent his knees, and swung his arm. The boulder moved to the left with ominous hum, revealing an entrance to a cave. They walked inside a narrow, damp corridor, wading ankle-deep in murky water. The cold drops were steadily falling from the low vault. A light that flickered in one of the spurs suddenly went out. 

"Don't worry, it's me," the Commissioner shouted. 

After some rustling, the feeble light reappeared. They turned into the lighted spur, climbed upwards through a narrow passage, and entered a grotto. The makeshift shelter mounted in the grotto was soaked with dampness, cold, and fear. Two adults and two children in worn coats, huddled around the campfire on the straw mattresses, barely resembled humans, let alone aristocrats. Their pale faces were hollow and grimy and their eyes were filled with animalistic anxiety. 

A thirty-something woman passed a snotty little boy to a tween girl and stood up, rubbing her livid hands. "Thank Spirits, I was afraid that something had happened to you." The woman, wearing a drab holey coat, spoke and moved in a manner typical of the Earth Kingdom's upper classes. She glanced at Azula and a shade of hope lit her dark eyes. "Is this our guide?" 

"No, she's my...assistant." Commissioner's shoulders hunched. "I'm terribly sorry but I wasn't able to contact any guide yet." 

The woman quickly hid her disappointment, as befitted a well-raised noble. She gracefully thanked for the food and passed the tow sack with supplies to the somber bearded man. The snotty boy began to cry and stopped only when his sister handed him a dirty plush bunny with fuzzy gray fur. After a few minutes of Commissioner assuring that he was doing everything in his power to help them, the two of them left the cave. Welcomed by a cold gust of the pitiless wind, Azula pressed her arms to her chest. She was confused and tired; her body felt heavy and numb as the adrenaline was wearing down. 

"Why are you risking your life helping the oppressors of the poor?" she asked, standing behind Commissioner's back. 

He swung his arm right and the boulder rolled to the entrance. "For the same reason I helped you. I'm trying to maintain basic human decency," he replied flatly, without turning his head. 

***

Azula was angrily pacing the patch of grass, stretching between the east wall of the house, the wretched barn, and the latrine. In her heavy boots, she was almost wearing a path around the pine logs, heaped in the middle. The days became unbearably hot and the mild south breeze was directing birch pollen and latrine fumes straight into the yard. The princess swung her leg and kicked the chopping block, which slowly rolled towards the logs. Nothing was right. Her hideous wound had a long way to heal, her fire was pathetic, and Asa was still avoiding her. 

The only satisfying thing was the incredibly fast progress made by her student. Shockingly fast, to be honest, in comparison to what Dum-Dum had been able to achieve at the child's age. Of course, Zuzu wasn't the brightest and most gifted student, but after all, he was royalty. Azula had always thought it guaranteed a certain level of physical and mental abilities unavailable to the commoners, but the scrawny peasant child was proving her wrong. 

Right on cue, the princess heard light footsteps behind her back. Uncharacteristically, little bare feet weren't marching, but rather shuffling. Azula turned around. 

"Reporting for duty, Commander!" The girl in the oversized patched tunic stood to attention and saluted. Rolled sleeves were revealing fresh scratches on her forearms and her puffy eyes were blinking rapidly. 

Azula straightened, clasping her arms behind her back. "Stand down, cadet. Report what happened to you." 

Ikari sniffled and wiped her reddened nose with her arm, leaving a stain on the sleeve. "I have nothing to report, Commander." 

"Don't lie to me." 

"It's that stupid Xilan." The girl hung her head and stamped with her dirty foot. "I wanted to play with them, but she said I'm a dirty ashmaker and a bastard." 

"Did you use your firebending against them?" 

Her tiny hands clenched into fists. "Oh, I'd like to, but comrade Commissioner says it'll only make things worse." 

"Well, for once, he's right," the princess said contemptuously. The tiny hands went limp. "But firebending isn't our only weapon. In fact, it isn't even our strongest weapon." 

"Then what is?" Amber eyes stared at Azula intently. The remnants of grief disappeared from the child's face, replaced by curiosity. 

Azula tapped a finger on her temple. "Cleverness. The ability to identify and exploit your enemy's greatest weakness can conquer kingdoms without fighting. Sit down, cadet," she said, pointing at the heap of logs. "Do you know how Ba Sing Se was conquered by the Fire Nation?" 

The girl put the overturned chopping block upright and perched on it. "The Dragon of the West was close, but he didn't conquer it," Ikari replied hesitantly, playing with her braid. Of course, Azula's victory had been erased from the newest version of history. 

"That old loser wasn't remotely close. And what he did was a huge waste of time, resources, and soldiers, including his own son. It was princess Azula of the Fire Nation who conquered Ba Sing Se and she did it quick and clean..." Azula strolled in front of the heap, her arms behind her back, her chin raised, telling the story of her greatest military achievement. The girl was listening with her mouth agape. "... and then princess Azula said, _Don't flatter yourself, you were never even a player_." 

Ikari squealed with excitement, clapping her hands wildly. Suddenly, the girl looked behind Azula's back and grinned. "Won't you join us, comrade Commissioner? Comrade Avra just told me the most amazing war story!" 

The Commissioner strode towards the yard. "I'm quite busy now, maybe next time," he replied, smiling apologetically at Ikari, and entered the barn. They heard a scuff and a rustle and soon he was marching back with a box of clinking ink bottles under his arm. He didn't glance at Azula even once. 

After he vanished behind the house, the girl looked shrewdly at the princess. "Why is comrade Commissioner mad at you, Commander?" 

Azula rested her hands on her hips. "That's none of your business." 

"It's got to be something serious, he got mad at me only once, when I took the Manifesto." Ikari stroked her chin and narrowed her eyes. "You should do what I did!" 

The princess sneered at the girl. "And what would that be?" 

"Pretend to be sorry," the girl replied with a mischievous smile. Then she gasped and jumped to her feet, her grimy face lit by some revelation. "Wouldn't that be exploitation of his weakness?" 

"Definitely." Azula glimpsed at the house and smirked. "You know what, cadet? You're smarter than you look." 

"Thank you, Commander!" Ikari beamed, but her grin quickly faded away and she frowned, putting a finger to her cheek. The princess laughed. 

When the training session came to an end, Azula headed to Commissioner's office. He sat behind the desk, bent reverently over the sheets of paper scattered over the desktop, like a shaman reading the future from the guts of a slaughtered animal. After the reunion, his work on the translation had become frantic as if he was afraid he was running out of time. Scuffing loudly, Azula positioned a chair in front of the desk and sat down. For quite a while she studied his long-fingered hand, quickly but neatly drawing black characters on a beige sheet of low-quality paper. 

"Will you talk with me about what happened that night?" she finally asked, shifting on the chair. 

"I suppose I have no other option if I want to save my life," he replied tonelessly, still writing. 

Azula sighed. "Look, it's not in my nature to trust..." 

"I happened to notice it," he said to the beige sheet of paper. 

"As a child, I was taught that trust is for fools. My later life has confirmed this," she said bitterly. "The people that had been closest to me, betrayed me, one by one. I was stripped from everything I had. When you lied to me, I thought it was happening again." He slowly put away the brush, took off his spectacles, and raised his head. She had expected anger or resentment, but gazing into his eyes she found only sorrow and a shade of something she couldn't decipher. Her vision blurred and her lips began to speak on their own. "Worse still, it felt like the natural order of things. After all, who wouldn't betray a monster?" The pent-up tears began to roll down her cheeks. 

"You're not a monster." Asa got out from behind the desk, crouched beside her, and took her hand in his. "You're scarred by that monstrous war, just like all of us," he said, looking her in the eye and squeezing her hand. "And I couldn't betray you, I..." He hesitated for a moment and glanced away. "I wish you all the best." 

_As long as you don't know my true identity_. Azula wiped wet cheeks with her free hand. "Agni, I'm pathetic." 

He shook her hand as in greeting and the corners of his lips quirked up a bit. "Welcome to the club." Then he gestured with his head towards the desk. "Come, I have plenty of things to consult with you." 

***

"Remember to add wood to the furnace from time to time, the nights are still cold." Asa stood at the threshold of the office with a bag slung over his shoulder and misery written over his face. "And I assure you one more time, there is absolutely no reason to follow me unless you want to be bored to death." 

"Don't worry, I won't follow you. I have better things to do." Azula said from behind the desk with a smirk. 

"May I ask what things?" 

She tilted her head. "Curiosity killed the cat, Commissioner. You'll find out when the time comes." 

"Now I regret having to go even more," he said, running his hand through his disheveled hair. "Anyway, have a good time with your secret doings, surely they'll be more compelling than that unnecessary plenum," he added, disappearing in the hall. The front door creaked and a breath of cool evening air passed through the office. 

Azula approached the murky window pane and peered at the road; the dusk was falling. The Commissioner got on his black-feathered ostrich horse and trotted along the lilac bushes, wildly blossoming behind low wooden fences. The sight of him riding upright in his official uniform and leather jackboots evoked a strange sensation in her, but she suppressed it and rolled up the sleeves of her drab tunic. It was time to put an end to the chaos reigning on the bookcase. She pulled all the books and scrolls off the shelves and began to put them back in thematic order, starting from the top. 

Near the end, putting the first book on the lowest shelf, she noticed that the plank was loose. She carefully took it out and nearly gasped. The space between the lowest shelf and the floor turned out to be a hiding place, a poorly camouflaged one. Azula looked around as if someone could see her and quickly grabbed her haul, a roll of papers tied with a red ribbon and an unnamed manuscript. Sitting behind the desk, she increased the flame of the lamp and untied the ribbon. Letters. Letters addressed to his ex-fiance that had never been meant to be sent. 

Azula read them with an increasingly unpleasant feeling in her chest. After the last, the unfinished one, she tied the letters with the ribbon and scooted them away. She took the soiled manuscript and flipped through it, stopping on the random page. _44 DAU_. A journal. _DAU_ surely stood for Days After Uprising. This would date it to the failed offensive of the People's Army in the Fire Nation Colonies, which Asa had mentioned. 

> _44 DAU_
> 
> _The day was clear and the visibility in all directions was excellent. An hour after the dawn, we passed an undamaged bridge, hung over a deep valley. After a few picturesque bends, we reached the highest point of our route. A silhouette of a three-story mansion loomed in the short distance, disturbingly silent. The reason for this became clear after we approached the front entrance. The carved door was ripped off the hinges and shattered window panes were strewn all over the porch. One of our units had been here already._
> 
> _I wandered aimlessly around the devastated mansion until I stumbled upon a two-level library. Even in its deplorable state, the library was still magnificent, with mahogany bookshelves stretching from floor to high ceiling. It wasn't a mere decoration, it was the manifestation of love of knowledge, the quality I had always admired in the Fire Nation. Most of the books were devoted to art history, but before I opened any of them, I was called to the lounge. The comrades came up with the idea of defecating to the porcelain tableware. I turned my head away and went out to the nearby garden._
> 
> _Behind a neatly shaped boxwood I noticed what appeared to be feet. I approached the boxwood and saw half-naked, blooded, and already swollen bodies of two young girls. One of them, nearly a child, was [unreadable] I sought out captain X and asked him why the Central Command allows for that. X replied that he had already executed three soldiers and he couldn't execute the entire company. I went back to the garden and sat on the ornamented bench in front of a glittering pond, feeling sick. The comrades tried to rival the atrocities of the Fire Army soldiers, but what for?_

__

The princess went back to the first page and began to read carefully. When she finished the journal, with a stomach tied in knots, the office was already lit by the rays of Agni. The lamp had been burning needlessly for a longer time and the fire in the furnace went out. She put the letters and the manuscript back to the hiding place, covered it with the plank, and pressed the shelf with all her strength. Maybe Asa hadn't been actively trying to kill himself, but he certainly had a death wish. Azula mindlessly finished the rearrangement, splashed her face with cold water, and poured herself a glass of moonshine.

Sitting at the kitchen table with an empty glass in her hand, the princess couldn't stop thinking about the journal. Bred to wage victorious wars, she had spent most of her life in the pursuit of military glory. She saw the war as an advanced version of Pai Sho, a game with complex rules and a tinge of randomness, in which she could prove her intellect. Of course, casualties were inevitable, but in her mind they were equal to the loss of Pai Sho tiles. The war seen through Commissioner's eyes was something vastly different. It was blood, tears, and semen; an amorphous, destructive force, regressing human beings into animals guided solely by a survival instinct. 

Azula was brought back to the tiny kitchen by the creak of the front door. She put the glass back on the table. 

"I survived," Asa's bright voice said from the hall. "And I have something for you." He walked into the kitchen, hiding his hand behind his back, with tired but relieved face. When he looked at her, his face took on a concerned expression. "Is everything all right?" 

"I'm just tired. I worked really hard," she said, making an effort to smile. "What do you have for me, Commissioner?" 

Asa pulled his hand from behind his back, revealing a slightly withered bunch of flowers. He had gathered common weeds, overgrowing the surrounding meadows: red poppies, blue cornflowers, yellow buttercups, and white daisies. "You will laugh at me, but these flowers are somehow reassuring. No matter what cataclysm sweeps down through the earth, they grow again after the winter. And they will continue to do so, with or without us." He handed her the flowers. 

"Only you can find reassurance in such thoughts, but thank you." Azula smiled, this time effortlessly. "That's the nicest bouquet I ever got." _The only one I ever got._

He smiled back. "I'll put my stuff away," he said, grabbing the strap of his bag, and vanished in the hall. 

Azula carefully put the flowers on the table and stood up to look for a substitute for a vase. She was about to open a shabby cabinet when a dull thump startled her. 

"What have you done?" Asa cried from the office. "Now I won't be able to find anything." 

"As if you were able to find anything before, you ingrate," she shouted back. "Look carefully, now they're sorted in the strict thematic order." 

***

"I have to admit, this new arrangement is really clever." Asa looked appreciatively at the bookcase, approaching it with yellowed _Ancient History of Hiafang_ in his hand. 

"Of course it is," Azula said from behind the desk, lighting the rusty oil lamp with a flick of her wrist. The face of Agni was slowly setting. The outside world was still full of orange light, but inside it was getting too dim to read. "As it turns out, your yesterday's plenum wasn't totally pointless." 

"Regarding that, I'd say it was quite fruitful." 

"What do you mean?" The sudden change of heart towards the plenum couldn't be good. 

"I contacted an acquaintance of mine. He agreed to smuggle Zengxins, the family from the caves, to the Colonies." 

A prickling sensation shot through Azula's body and the flame of the lamp quivered. "Are you sure that he can be trusted?" 

"I have every reason to believe so. It's not the first time he's doing this." Asa bent to put the book on the wrong shelf. 

Standing up, Azula shook her head. "It doesn't belong here." She approached him and took the book from his hand. "Please allow me," she said, pushing him towards the wall, to get to the right place. 

He chuckled. "How will I manage without you?" 

"You can come with me and leave all of this," she said firmly, turning to him. "I mean it, this isn't a place for you." 

"You know I can't leave." 

"Then, for Agni's sake, be careful." Azula frowned, glimpsing at the lowest shelf. 

"I highly doubt that Agni cares for my well-being whatsoever," he said with amusement. 

"That's not funny." Azula slapped his chest and her hand froze, fascinated by his fast heartbeat. Her feet made a step forward and her other hand also landed on his chest, pressing him against the wall. His heart began to race. His body was radiating warmth and an earthy scent mixed with the faint smell of soap. Her stomach fluttered as she gazed into his dilated pupils. He gently cupped his hand over her cheek and leaned over; suddenly, someone banged at the door. 

They both tensed, their faces inches apart. At this hour no one from the village would bother the Commissioner. The banging continued; Azula stepped back. 

"Stay here," Asa said quietly, raising his hand. "I'll get it." 

She took a fighting stance and with clenched fists listened to the creak of the door. 

"I came for my sister-in-law. Is she..." said Sokka's voice. 

Azula relaxed her fists. She smoothed down her tunic and walked into the tiny hall, filled with the orange light and crisp air coming through the open door. For a second, she couldn't recognize the bearded vagrant standing at the threshold. Sokka's eyes were ringed and his hair, tied into a messy wolf tail, was significantly longer, with no trace of shaven sides. But when the Water tribesman saw her, his blue eyes regained their normal animated look and his hunched shoulders straightened. 

"Thank Spirits." Sokka dashed to Azula and pulled her into a tight embrace as if he wanted to suffocate her. She stiffened; judging from a rank smell, he hadn't wasted his time on the way here. The Water tribesman made a step back. "I don't know how to thank you, Commissioner," he said, looking at Asa like he wanted to suffocate him with his embrace too. "I hope that my sister-in-law didn't give you a hard time." 

"For the most time, it was a pleasure to have Avra here," Asa said wistfully. 

Sokka raised his eyebrow slightly. "Still, I'm in your debt," he said and turned to Azula. "Avra, we have to leave immediately. There's...some urgent matter that we have to tackle." 

Azula gazed into Commissioner's eyes. Asa was feeling it too, that overwhelming grief over something that hadn't even begun. Apparently, good things weren't meant for them. _Will he write her letters that she will never receive? Will he manage to do it before another war breaks out?_

The Commissioner cleared his throat. "Surely you two want to talk in private. I'll take a walk." He sent Azula a sad attempt at reassuring smile and closed the door behind him, leaving them in the dark hall. 

"Is it about..." 

"No, as far as we know he's all right," Sokka said quickly. "It's about you." They moved to the kitchen and the Water tribesman sat with his back to the window, hiding his face in half-shade. Glancing at the tabletop he winced. "Do you remember those strange vines in the Forbidden Zone? They're from the Spirit World. Kuvira is using them to construct a bomb capable of wiping half of the Fire Nation in one go. And, according to Iroh, creating an imbalance which will destroy all life on earth." 

Azula crossed her arms on her chest. "My dear uncle fatso is certainly being overdramatic. And I don't see what it has to do with me." 

Sokka rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. "The spirit portal has to be closed by the Avatar, but I believe that you have a major role to play in this. I know that you also saw something that night in the Forbidden Zone." 

She stared through the window. In the last rays of Agni, dirty pig hens plodded mindlessly towards the broken door of the latrine. Maybe it would be for the best? Maybe Kuvira's bomb and its aftermath was the cleansing the world needed? There would be no more dirt, betrayal, and pain, only quiet, sterile vastness. Then she looked over at the bunch of flowers, standing on the table in a bulky moonshine bottle. The princess sighed deeply. 

Asa returned home when she was finishing packing the last bag. He quietly entered the bedroom and looked at her with poorly concealed regret. "Are you sure that you have to leave now? It's getting late." 

"We have no time to lose," Azula said, her heart wrenching. "Oh, and I need the address of the person, who will help with this _Kakhol Esh_ thing." Then she turned to the Water tribesman, spread on her bed with a cup of tea in his hand. "Lee, could you prepare my ostrich horse? It's in the barn behind the house." 

"Hey, I'm not your..." He stopped short meeting her gaze. "I mean, sure thing, sis." 

Sokka left and they moved to the office. Asa sat behind the desk to write the address down and she perched on the edge of it, looking one last time on the rows of neatly arranged books and scrolls. 

"That's the best-qualified person I can think of." Asa said, standing in front of her and passing her the scrap of paper. 

Azula put it in her pocket and laughed bleakly. "Who would've thought that I would miss a wretched peasant's house?" 

He took her hand in his. "Listen, I..." 

She leaned over, but all of a sudden she heard the bubbly voice of Ty Lee. _You're the most beautiful, smartest, perfect girl in the world_. An irrational fear of listening to what he wanted to say gripped her. "You should hide your journal better, it can get you killed," she said quickly. 

"Excuse me?" He let go of her hand as a flash of understanding crossed his face. He turned away, approached the bookcase, and hung his head. "You had no right to read any of it." 

Azula reached out her hand. "That doesn't matter, you really shouldn't keep it there." 

"It's better if you leave already," he said quietly. 

They exchanged formal pleasantries in the front yard, observed by bewildered Sokka, and the Commissioner went back inside. Azula looked at the muddy puddle, the rickety bench, and the blossoming lilac growing along the fences, all slowly lapsing into darkness. Then she closed the squeaky gate behind her and got on her ostrich horse. 

Sokka was constantly talking, weaving more and more ridiculous theories about her vision of the Avatar. His voice sounded like a distant buzzing of a mosquito. Azula rode with her head hung, staring vacantly at the gravel road, monotonously passing under her horse's scaled feet. The outside world seemed to be separated from her by thick glass. Her stupor was broken by brittle and muted voices; she raised her head. Two tipsy soldiers in rumpled gray uniforms and muddy leather boots were coming the other way. They sized her with their dull eyes, but didn't stop their horses; Azula hung her head again. 

At the crossroads, babbling Sokka wanted to turn right. 

"Not this way, we have to turn left," Azula said. 

"Right, I came from here and your boyfriend's buddies were going there, back then," he said, waving right. 

"Are you saying those two soldiers were going there?" Azula asked, pointing at the overgrown path leading to the caves. 

"Yeah, why?" 

Azula ran out of her breath. She immediately turned her horse around, leaned forward, and with all her strength squeezed it with her calves; the horse went into a gallop. 


	12. The Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for violence

"Wait for me... For fuck's sake." 

Tui and La, it finally happened, she went insane. The drumming of her horse's talons was frantically moving away. The dusk was gathering, cloaking the vast wasteland with a sinister gloom. Sokka shifted in his saddle and jerked the rein, turning his horse around. A dust cloud trailing behind Azula was blending with a jagged thicket, overgrowing the sides of the road. 

"You can do it, buddy," Sokka said, patting his horse's dusted neck and pressing its warm trunk with his calves. Heavy, clawed feet scrunched on the gravel; the ostrich horse lurched forward. Knocked off balance, Sokka stood in the stirrups, leaned over the hurtling horse's neck, and gripped its slick mane. 

His heart began to pound in sync with the pounding of his horse's feet. The cool rush of air was blowing dust into his eyes. Strenuously balancing his weight and blinking away the dust, Sokka fixed his gaze at the vanishing shape of Azula's horse. This couldn't end up well. The two hefty motherfuckers were probably already at the house of Azula's boyfriend. Boyfriend, lover, or whatever the one-armed People's Army lieutenant had become to her during past weeks. 

Sokka reached the deadly silent dark cottage almost at the same time as Azula. At the low fence, he jerked the reins and jumped to the road, panting heavily. She dashed to the wretched cottage, splashing the puddle; the front door slammed against the wall. Sokka followed her, darting through the shady yard. Just before the door, he skidded on the puddle and tumbled to the mud. Rising from the ground, he glimpsed into the hall, and his stomach knotted. A shaft of light coming from the office was falling on a bloodstain surrounded by the remains of the broken spectacles. 

Inside the office time slowed down. The floor was scattered with sheets of paper; in the corner, a broken inkwell lied in a black puddle. Big-bellied fuck in a gaping uniform was sitting behind the desk, his muddy boots on the desktop. The other one, tall and broad-shouldered, was hovering over the kneeling Commissioner, his gray uniform sprinkled with blood. The Commissioner was bent down, staggering, supporting himself on his only hand. Azula began to move her arms in a circular motion, her fingers followed by balefully buzzing blue sparks. 

The drunken dipshits stared at her with bulging eyes. She aimed two fingers at the standing one; the blue lightning ripped across the small room. The hefty body heavily collapsed on the floor, filling the air with a sickly sweet smell of burnt flesh. White as a sheet, Azula grabbed her abdomen, screamed, and dropped to her knees. The big-bellied guy jumped to his feet, hurling papers from the desktop to the air, and rushed towards the window. Sokka leaped to him, drawing his sword. 

The guy turned around, raising his hands, but Sokka's muscle memory was faster. With all his strength the Water tribesman swung his sword and slit the guy's exposed throat. The warm blood gushed all over him; the man was coughing and gurgling, looking at him with round, terrified eyes. Finally, he went silent and his livid body limply thumped on the wooden floor. Sokka's stomach churned with nausea. The sword dropped from his trembling hand and clanked on the planks. Something shuffled behind his back and Sokka turned around. 

The Commissioner crawled towards kneeling Azula. His face was swollen and disfigured; one of the black eyes was barely open. He kneeled in front of the shivering princess, reached to her with his hand, and grasped her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked softly. 

"You've almost..." Azula's voice cracked; she hung her head and the short black strands fell on her face. "I told you to be careful," she said quietly, her voice wavering. 

"It's okay now." The Commissioner tucked the black strands behind her ear and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I'm more or less in one piece, thanks to you." Then he wiped his nose and mouth with his sleeve; khaki linen soaked with blood. "But why did you come back?" 

Azula was silent for a while. "Lee saw them going to the caves," she finally said, slowly raising her head. 

The Commissioner buried his face in his hand. His body sagged, likening him to a tattered rag doll. With hesitation, Azula reached out her hands and wrapped her arms around his slumped shoulders. He leaned to her, pressing his forehead against her chest. Carefully, as if the Commissioner was made of glass, Azula rested her wet cheek on his messy head. Time stopped completely; they froze in a kneeling embrace among the scattered sheets of paper, in between two dead bodies. All of a sudden, brisk footsteps in the hall broke the silence and the embrace. Azula clenched her fists; Sokka seized his sword. 

A stocky woman in a white apron strode into the office, swinging a rusty ax. "Good Spirits!" she exclaimed, looking at Commissioner's face, and spat on the electrocuted guy. "These scumbags were lucky you got here first." 

"Close the door, for Agni's sake," Azula said harshly, quickly wiping her cheeks with her hands. Her expression hardened. A red stain left by Commissioner's face appeared on her tunic. Sokka glanced at his own blood-splattered chest and felt faint. "We have to do something about them," the princess said. 

"I'll tell you what you'll do." The stocky woman rested her free hand on her hip and waved the ax towards the bodies. "You'll set the house on fire, leaving one of them inside, and I'll tell they killed the Commissioner, robbed and burned his house, and happily ran for the hills." 

"Is it plausible?" Azula asked, looking at Sokka. 

The Water tribesman shrugged. "Well, that's not uncommon, a quarter of the People's Army recruits from the thugs. They sometimes go back to their old ways." 

"Then we shall do it," the princess said and laid her hand on Commissioner's shoulder. "Asa, can you move?" He nodded. "And what about the earthbending? We will have to bury one of the carcasses." 

"I think I can do it." 

"Good. Lee will prepare the bodies." Azula rose to her feet and turned to the woman. "Miri La, clean the Commissioner up, I will pack him. Oh, and leave us your ax, we will need it." 

Miri La dumped the ax on the desk and bent over the Commissioner, tightly gripping his shoulders. 

The guy winced, standing up with her help. "Pack me?" 

"You're going with us," Azula said firmly, approaching the bookcase. 

The Commissioner shook his head. "I appreciate your offer, but I can't. It would put you in danger." 

The princess crouched in front of the bookcase, throwing the books from the lowest shelf to the floor. "It's not up for discussion, you're going with us, whether you like it or not." 

"We're not the safest company to travel with either," Sokka said, sheathing his sword. "But we can travel off roads, I got better maps." 

Azula threw away the shelf and took out a dirty, yellowed manuscript. 

"It's not the best idea to carry it around," the Commissioner said with resignation in his voice. 

She clutched the manuscript to her stained chest. "I won't let it burn. Now go, we have to act quick." The Commissioner and the villager left the office. Exhaling loudly, Azula placed the manuscript on the desk. Then she pulled out a bulky bottle from the drawer and took several gulps. "If we were a few minutes later..." she said quietly, looking at the floor. 

Sokka walked up to her and squeezed her shoulder. "He's fine. He will be fine. We arrived on time." 

She handed him the bottle. "Drink this, you look like you're going to pass out." Then she crouched on the floor, gathering the written sheets of paper. 

Sokka guzzled his portion of the throat-blazing booze and wiped his mouth. "What's in the caves?" 

"Four corpses, I suppose," Azula said calmly, placing the sheets from the floor on top of the manuscript. Sokka flinched. "Asa was hiding a family of the Earth Kingdom's aristocrats. My guess is he was betrayed by the man who was supposed to smuggle them to the Colonies." She took the bottle from Sokka's hand and passed him the rusty ax. For a moment she studied the bodies lying on the floor and then she pointed at the electrocuted guy. "We will leave this one here. As a precaution, you have to cut off his forearm, around here," she said, putting her finger an inch below her left elbow. 

"Tui and La..." Sokka's stomach revolted, but he obediently stood over the corpse, trying not to breathe through his nose. 

When the black-feathered ostrich horse was saddled and laden, Sokka went to the office and shouldered the overweight corpse. He dropped the heavy body into the deep hole behind the back yard's fence, happy that he hadn't to go back inside anymore. With the visible stiffness, the earthbender covered the hole; every movement was clearly causing him pain. Numbed by the booze, Sokka looked at the crescent of the moon. The brush of the cool night breeze on his face felt like Yue's touch. 

Suddenly, the inky darkness was dispersed by an orange glow. The bright flames engulfed the cottage, heating the night air and filling it with suffocating smoke. Azula stepped out from behind the corner and joined them in the back yard. Together with the Commissioner, they gazed at the fire devouring the tiny wooden house. Their orange-lit faces expressed regret, they seemed to be grieving over the wretched cottage or rather something that was being destroyed together with it. But there was no way back. 

The Commissioner insisted on going to the caves, so they turned right on the damned crossroads. Leaving their horses on a pebbled clearing, they walked into a narrow cave corridor filled with ankle-deep water. Holding the torch in his hand, Sokka realized that Azula was still trying to hide her identity, but it was a problem for later. When they entered a side grotto, Sokka's hand trembled and the faint light flickered on the walls of the makeshift shelter. He knew that Azula was right about the corpses, but he hadn't expected children that young. For a while, they stood in silence. And then they heard a shuffle in the passage behind their backs. 

A scrawny, bare-foot girl rushed inside. "How could you lea..." She froze with her eyes wide open, staring at the corpses. 

"Don't look!" The Commissioner reached out his hand, taking a step towards her. The girl looked at his face and stepped back, almost tripping. He turned to Azula. "Get her out of here." 

Azula grabbed the petrified girl by the shoulders, turned her around, and pushed her towards the passage. 

The Commissioner clutched at his head, wincing. "She can't go back to the village after what she saw..." 

"What about her family?" Sokka asked. 

"She doesn't have any. Well, except for her mother, but she lives in the Lower Ring." 

"Then we can take the girl with us and pass her to her mother." Sokka moved towards the passage. "Come on." 

The earthbender followed him, shaking his head. "We can't possibly find her. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack." 

"Don't worry, we know people for whom it's a piece of cake," Sokka said. The Commissioner looked at him intently. _Well, shit._

With sweat breaking out over his furrowed forehead and clenched jaws, the earthbender closed the passage, turning the grotto into a crypt that nobody was going to ever visit. 

***

What seemed impossible after yesterday's events, Sokka must've fallen asleep late in the night. He was awakened by a piercing cold, creeping from the damp ground and the nearby brook; the campfire had gone out long ago. Sniffling and shivering, he covered his frozen face with his stinking, worn-out sleeping bag, blocking out the sunlight. Through the liner of the sleeping bag, his ears could pick up only muted chirps of the birds and a steady ripple of the brook. The others must've been sleeping. All of a sudden, a strange feeling overwhelmed him. 

He was again fifteen, roaming the Earth Kingdom on Appa's back. Soon, Katara would wake them up with a mother-like reproachful expression, Toph would protest, swearing like a sailor, and Aang, as usual, wouldn't interfere. Sokka felt a lump in his throat; the memories were his shelter. Sure, they had been in constant danger and on the quest to face the Fire Lord, but the world had been much simpler back then. He missed the clear sense of who were the bad guys and who were the good guys and what was the right thing to do. _All it takes is to defeat the scary Fire Lord. Whoosh, whoosh, magical beams! All the problems are gone, everyone is happy._ Everyone, except the guys whose bodies had fed sea vultures at the shores of the Earth Kingdom. 

Sokka reluctantly took his head and hand out of the stuffy warmth and leaned on the ground, inhaling the crisp air. His arm sank into a soft, dewy moss. The morning sun filtered through the canopy of pines, casting elongated shadows on the camp. In its rays, the water drops covering the tent occupied by the girls were glistening like spots of gold. Their ostrich horses were lazily grazing at the clear brook. The only missing element of this idyllic picture was the Commissioner. His sleeping bag, placed on the other side of the dead campfire was empty. 

The Water tribesman looked around the forest. Despite the high ferns surrounding them, he spotted the earthbender's back; the guy was standing between the pines, occupied with rather private business. Sokka quickly looked the other way and sighed. As much as he didn't want to, he had to leave the sleeping bag to follow his example. Soon, the ferns behind Sokka's back rustled and the squeak of the leather boots approached him; he perked up, narrowing his eyes. "Morning, Commissioner." 

"I'm sorry if I woke you up." The Commissioner stiffly sat down on a wrinkled trunk of an old fallen tree. "And please, call me Asa, I'm not the Commissioner anymore," he said vacantly, pointing at his short drab tunic girded with a wide leather belt. Together with the loose pants tugged into boots, it would be a typical peasant's outfit, if not for the knee-high military jackboots. Looking at his swollen, black and blue face in the light of day, Sokka could almost feel the pain. But on the bright side, the guy retained most, if not all, of his even teeth and his face should get back to normal. Except for the nose, previously straight and rather shapely, now out of its place, crooked like the Serpent's Pass. "Formally, I don't even exist anymore," the earthbender added after a while, tilting his unkempt head back. Sokka couldn't take his eyes off the nose and the guy noticed it. "Is it that bad?" he asked. 

"Umm... It depends on the point of view." Sokka waved his hand, trying to find an euphemism. Then an idea came into his sleepy mind; a sparrow strolling through the fireplace flew away, scared by the snap of his fingers. "But if you want to I can try to set your nose. I saw how my Gran-Gran did it. I think it's not too late." 

Asa touched his nose and flinched. "I would be grateful." 

Sokka crawled out of his sleeping bag and threw his cool, damp tunic on. First, he headed towards the brook, his bare feet stepping on the dewy grass sprinkled with pine cones. After rinsing his hands in the ice-cold brook, he walked by the fireplace and crouched in front of the earthbender. "Hold still," he said, grabbing the bridge of the warm, reddened nose with both hands. As quick as he could, he pushed it back into place with a crack. Asa squeezed his eyes shut; a tear fell down his violet cheek. "Here you go, as good as new," Sokka said, patting his shoulder. Then he returned to his place, sitting cross-legged on the rumpled sleeping bag. 

"Thank you," Asa said, wiping the tear with his sleeve. His nose wasn't perfectly straight, but it was much better than before. "I must admit, I've always thought that non-existence would be less painful." 

The tent quivered and swished; the glistening water drops rolled down the linen sheets. The ostrich horses looked with interest in their direction. 

"Don't you dare to talk about non-existence," Azula said, emerging from the tent in a creased tunic, her ashen face framed by a halo of messy hair. Her tone was sharp, but her ringed eyes were full of concern. She sat beside the earthbender, furrowing her brow. "Let me see it." She gently lifted his chin in her hand and her frown deepened. "You should see a physician. A real one," she said in a choked voice. 

"It's all right." Asa took her palm in his and lowered their intertwined hands on his knee, trying to curl his lips into a reassuring smile. Then he gazed into her eyes, drawing his brows together. "But how are you feeling? Didn't anything happen to you when..." 

"I'm fine," Azula quickly said, letting off his hand. She smoothed down her tunic and looked over at her muddy boots, leaning forward. 

The earthbender reached towards her but hesitated and finally, his hand landed on his forehead. Accidentally, he touched a cut stretching under his hairline. Hissing, he moved his hand away from his head. Then he took a deep breath in. "Is Ikari awake?" he asked quietly. 

Azula glanced at the silent tent; the linen sheets were slowly drying in the increasing sunshine. "I don't think so, she fell asleep rather late." 

"Then I have a question for you two," Asa said, pursing his lips. He looked at Sokka and then fixed his gaze at Azula; her posture became rigid. "Who are you?" 

The princess glanced at Sokka and slightly shook her head, her look almost pleading. They went silent; the brook murmured steadily and somewhere above their heads a woodpecker began to drum. 

Sokka sighed, looking at them sitting close together, their legs touching, just a moment ago holding hands. He didn't want to do this to her. But it felt wrong to hide their identity from this guy after all they had been through. Besides, it was too late. "I'm sorry, but we have to tell him," the Water tribesman said. Azula's expression went blank. Sokka waved towards the tense earthbender. "Asa saved your life, he deserves to know the truth. I'm sure he'll understand..." 

"Enough," Azula said coldly, gesturing at the tent with her head. "Let's take a walk." 

One after another, they walked up the slippery, rocky bank of the brook, stopping near a stone cascade. From a small clearing they could still see the camp, but the burble of the water was enough to drown out their voices. The princess stood at the edge of the brook with her arms crossed on her chest, staring somberly at the babbling white foam; the drops of water were splashing her boots. The ex-Commissioner plucked a fern leave and restlessly crumpled it in his hand, looking intensely at her back. 

Sokka cleared his throat. "So, I guess I'll start," he said, putting his hand on his chest. "I'm Sokka of the Water Tribe." 

The earthbender raised his eyebrow. He clearly recognized the name but, of course, it wasn't the thing he had been waiting for. 

"You want the truth? Here it is." Azula kicked a mossy stone into the water and turned to them, resting her hands on her hips and raising her chin. Despite the drab linen clothes and short messy hair, there was something undeniably regal in her look. "My name is Azula," she said firmly. "Daughter of Fire Lord Ozai and Ursa. Princess of the Fire Nation and heir to the throne. Conqueror of Ba Sing Se and Avatar slayer." With a pained expression, she curled her lips into a mocking smile. "Insane monster." 

Asa made a step back. His less swollen eye widened, his hand went limp, and the leftovers of the fern fell on the ground. "You..." He waved his hand into the air and touched his forehead. "I'm sorry, I need time to process it." Shaking his head, he turned around and walked away further up the bank. 

Azula hung her head and wrapped her arms around herself. 

Sokka rushed to the princess. "Just give him time, as he said." 

She turned away from him; her eyes were wet and her chin was quivering. "Leave me alone." 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Hey, listen, he really cares about you. For sure..." 

The princess threw off his hand. "I said. Leave me. Alone." The blue sparks began to dangerously dance at the tips of her fingers. 

Sokka quietly retreated and lumbered towards the camp. After a few steps, a deafening thunder startled him; he instinctively ducked, covering his head. The thunder was followed by a creak and a loud splash, wetting his back. When everything went silent, he cautiously looked behind. A massive pine hit by Azula's lightning had collapsed into the brook, creating another cascade. The stump of the tree was burning with a bright flame. 

At the camp, the little girl jumped out of the tent, clumsily holding one of Azula's dao swords in her hand. Seeing the burning tree, she lowered the weapon. "Is comrade Commissioner mad at comrade Avra again?" she asked, perking up at approaching Sokka. Her grimy, haggard face looked way too serious for her age. 

Sokka sighed, crouching in front of her. "You can say that." 

"But he will forgive her?" 

"I hope so. But you can't blame him if he won't." The puffy amber eyes saddened even more. Sokka glanced at the petite hand desperately gripping the hilt. "Hey, what would you say for a little swordbending lesson?" 

***

Sokka emerged from the azure water and set his bare feet on the white sand, leaving the heaving ocean behind. A dazzling plain beach was extending to the horizon under the dome of the cloudless blue sky. The beach was empty, except for a certain Fire Lord, stretched on the sand in his ferociously red royal trunks. The face of the Fire Lord was shielded from Agni's rays by the monthly grain report, but his smooth chest and sculpted abdomen were shamelessly exposed. Well, he brought this on himself. 

Sokka tiptoed in his direction. "Sneak attack!" He gleefully straddled the Fire Lord and took the scroll off his face. 

Zuko rolled his eyes. "It's not a sneak attack if you announce it." 

"And yet it's one hundred percent effective," Sokka said, raising his finger. 

The corners of Zuko's lips quirked upwards in a tiny smile, invariably melting Sokka's heart. They were one step from perfection. The Water tribesman buried his hand in silky black hair, gently freed it from the loose topknot, and laid it around Zuko's face. Zuko grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer. Sokka bent down, resting his arms on the sand, and kissed the unnaturally warm lips, at first softly and then greedily. The Fire Lord ran his eager hands down Sokka's back and gripped his ass. The unnatural warmth passed onto Sokka as if the hands had set his loins on fire. He pulled away from the kiss, slid lower, sitting on Zuko's thighs, and grabbed the belt of the red trunks. 

A distant screech of metal made Sokka turn his head away. The beach was empty as far as the eye could see. 

"Is the boomerang coming back?" asked Toph's muted voice. 

"Zuko did you..." Sokka said, turning his head back to the Fire Lord and his heart skipped a beat. He was kneeling on the vast beach alone, gripping a handful of the white sand. The metallic screeching and cracking was steadily increasing, making his skin crawl. "Zuko? Toph?" Sokka jumped to his feet and looked around. The azure waves were swaying something round and maroon, almost washing the thing up on the shore. 

Sokka stepped knee-deep into the heaving water and picked up the thing, turning it around in his hands. A cadaverous face of the cracked Fire Army helmet grinned at him. He took a swing a tossed the helmet far away into the sea, but soon another helmet popped up on his right, then another one on his left. The horned helmets began to surface on the azure water like the tiger sharks after catching their prey. Suddenly, right in front of him, the sea spat out a crushed arm with a sticking bone. On his left, he spotted a fragment of a leg, shod in a knee-high boot, floating among the helmets. A little further the sea was swaying a headless, limbless torso. 

The sky changed its color from blue into crimson; the grinding of the metal became deafening. Sokka tried to move, but his left leg failed him and he collapsed into the water. The azure sea turned into a dense, sticky pool of blood. He opened his mouth, but the scream stuck in his throat. 

Sokka opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. He was lying under a starry sky cocooned in his worn sleeping bag, his tunic pillowed under his head. The crackling fire was warming his right side while the crickets on his left were chirping wildly. The late night breeze was cooling his sweated forehead. 

"Are you okay?" Asa whispered, leaning on his hand on the other side of the campfire. "I hope it's not because of what happened in my house." 

"Do you have still have that booze?" Sokka crawled out of his sleeping bag and not bothering to threw on his tunic sat on the fallen log. The bloody sea of crushed limbs was still in front of his eyes. He leaned forward and clutched at his head; the damp air creeping from the forest was freezing his tense back. "It's those fucking airships, over and over again," he said quietly. 

After some shuffling and rustling, Asa stiffly sat beside him, handing him a half-empty bottle. "It was necessary to save thousands of lives." 

"For some reason, I don't see the saved ones in my dreams," Sokka said bitterly, grabbing the bottle. 

"Nor do I." The earthbender carefully rested his chin on his hand and looked at the orange flames quivering on the background of the dark forest. 

Sokka poured the burning moonshine down his throat. It was disgusting and yet he desperately needed it, a bitter medicine. A medicine with horrible side effects. It was a shame, what some of the tribe's members had become because of it after the War. Most of the time, Sokka tried to use it with moderation, but it wasn't a usual time. He drank, inhaling the pinewood smoke and staring at the twigs snapping in the flames. The intoxicating heat was slowly spreading through his body, relaxing his tensed muscles and numbing his mind and his conscience. _One for the moonshine, nil for Katara._

The Water tribesman looked at the pensive, hunched guy sitting on his right and suddenly, the gratitude for this silent companionship overwhelmed him. When Asa furtively glanced at the tent, Sokka snickered. "We make a good team, don't we? Two guys chewed up by that damned war, losing their heads over the Fire Nation's royalties." 

The earthbender rapidly shook his head, getting all flustered. "I'm not..." 

Sokka waved his hand in front of his companion's face. "Oh come on, you can't even fool a child. You fell for Azula as hard as she fell for you. You're fucked, buddy." He snorted and patted the earthbender's back; the guy opened his mouth to protest. "Don't worry, I'm not judging you," Sokka said reassuringly, raising his hands. "My acquaintance with Zuko began from him splitting my village in half with his ship." Asa closed his mouth and frowned. "I mean the literal village in the South Pole and the literal Fire Army's pointy ship," Sokka added quickly. "It's not some lewd metaphor." 

"I'm not judging you either," the earthbender said with a small smile. Sokka passed him the bottle; he took it and sipped a little. "Fire Lord Zuko had come a long way, hadn't he?" 

"You have no idea." Sokka gazed up at the waxing crescent of Yue's face; somehow, its silver glow brightened, putting his mind at ease. "The more I learn about his childhood, the more incredible it is to me." Then he looked at the round reddish pebbles scattered under his feet and slouched. "And the more I learn about the workings of the Fire Nation's propaganda I... I see the guys from the airships more as victims than enemies. And it doesn't make anything better." 

Asa gave him the bottle and tilted his head back. "In general, discerning the complexity of the world doesn't make you feel better," he said, raising his hand. "That's why simple narratives are so powerful and poisonous." His twinkling eyes strayed to the tent. "After all, no one is born with a sense of superiority of their nation or class." 

"Sometimes I wish I was a mindless drone," Sokka muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, accompanied by a prolonged hoot of an owl. 

The green eyes lit by the warm orange glow looked at him thoughtfully. "Because you're not, because of your courage in facing the world as it is, we're both still alive," Asa said gesturing with his head at the tent. Then he smiled kindly. "And if you were a mindless drone you wouldn't see Fire Lord Zuko as he really is, would you?" 

Sokka blinked away the tears welling up in his eyes and wrapped his arm around the earthbender's shoulders. "You know what, buddy? I think you should find out a bit more about Azula." 


End file.
